No Rest for the Wicked
by Through the Mirror Darkly
Summary: (Set in 2015) When lies overshadow the truth, the world is a dark and unforgiving place. When the truth about Jason is revealed, it was supposed to be all over, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. Secrets and dangers stalk the streets of Port Charles, and no one is prepared for the fallout.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any character or history from General Hospital. That is the sole property of ABC. I am writing this because I love the history and stories for the most part, and to challenge myself as a writer in order to one day perhaps write original stories of my own.

Summary: (Set in 2015) When lies overshadow the truth, the world is a dark and unforgiving place. When the truth about Jason is revealed, it was supposed to be all over, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. Secrets and dangers stalk the streets of Port Charles, and no one is prepared for the fallout.

Pairings: Eventual Elizabeth/Jason

Aimee/Ross (Original Characters)

Robin/Patrick

*mentions of past relationships*

Author's Note 1: This is a massive overhaul of 2015 and onward, starting in December 2015. GH Transcripts from 2015, 2016, 2017 have been heavily used as most of the major storylines in the first two chapters happened, so some parts will be familiar to canon. But there are tweaks and new dialogue, that have adapted it to break away from canon and into an Alternate Universe. There is minor usage of 2006-11 transcripts for call backs because of Liason History, Jake's death, and other storylines which affect certain aspects of this story.

History AU: Elizabeth kept Jason's identity a secret, but only because Nikolas threatened her. She did not have a romantic relationship with him, only stood by him as his friend. This is set on (December 2015), and I've used the transcript, but altered them to fit the fanfic. Lucky and Liz never got back together in 2009, and no Niz affair in 2010. In 2012, Jason saved Elizabeth from Ewen, but she did not approach him in any romantic fashion. AJ did not get brought back from the dead in 2013. Sam did not have some made up magical surgery to fix her hysterectomy, so no baby Danny. In 2007-08, Nikolas did not share with anyone about his blackouts and the tumor and did not receive medical help. In 2014, Franco and Carly did get married.

Warning: There will be character deaths, and not flattering to certain characters. Any character who was against Liason, you can be assured that they will likely not be viewed in good light in this story. There will be villains, and no, not everyone is redeemable. I do like to think that I've made everything shades of grey, even if there is a firm line between who will come out on top and who will not. Still if Liason isn't your favorite pairing, and you don't like Elizabeth or Jason, then you might just want to click the back button. Can't say I didn't warn you.

* * *

**No Rest for the Wicked**

**By ThroughtheMirrorDarkly**

**Chapter One**

**-chapter theme song-**

-_"Losing My Religion" _**by R.E.M.-**

* * *

Elizabeth Webber believed the person who coined the phrase "the truth will set you free" should be thrown off the edge of a cliff. The truth was out there, and she didn't feel free. Instead, the confines of her cage seem to creak and groan, shifting to fit the new circumstances of her reality. She couldn't count how many times in the last couple of weeks that she had to justify her actions and face ridicule from people who had honestly did far worse, which was nothing new to her. Hypocrisy ran through the streets of Port Charles right alongside of the never-ending drama.

And Elizabeth was no saint. She accepted her flaws and mistakes, wore them all like a badge of honor because she was still here and standing strong. She was a proficient nurse and one of the best at the hospital. (The toxicity of General Hospital had become too much for her to work here any longer with Obretcht as the Head of the Hospital, and Monica always there to give her snide comments.) She had her two boys and little girl—Emily Ann Webber had been adopted in 2010—and there was nothing she wouldn't do her children.

And that is how Nikolas Cassidine—her former friend—twisted her arm to keep Jason's identity a secret. He threatened to harm her children and Elizabeth believed him. He had already had Hayden Barnes, a woman Nikolas had claimed to love, shot and left in a coma to hide his dirty little secret. While Nikolas wore a familiar face, Elizabeth felt like he couldn't be more like a stranger to her now. He had been her friend since they were teenagers and she couldn't believe how much he had changed.

As for Jason Morgan, he was complicated subject for Elizabeth without the lie in place. She and Jason had become close over a decade ago when their lives had been uprooted. There were always more than friends, and shared a connection would always exist, even if others did all they could to severe that connection. Timing had always been there problem, and no matter how hard they tried, they could never get on the same page of their relationship. For two brief years, Jason and Elizabeth had deepened their love and held the fragile bliss out of sight from everyone who always fought so hard against them being together. They had a son together, Jake, who looked more and more like his father every day. In the end, Jason couldn't—wouldn't risk the life of her and her kids.

He lived a dangerous life as an enforcer for the mob. Allegedly.

He had walked away, and she was left to pick up the pieces. Jason had gotten back together with Sam, while Elizabeth had done away with the thought of romance. Her ex-husband, Lucky, had come back sniffing around but she wasn't about to fall into that old trap. Elizabeth scribbled down the patient's blood pressure and heart rate, checking the time on her wristwatch to make note for the doctor. She set the chart down at the end of the bed and told the patient that it would be a few minutes, before she left the room and made sure to close the door behind her quietly.

A part of her would always love Jason. He had a hold on her heart that none of her former flames could compare to, but when it came to him or her children, Elizabeth would always choose her children. Jason had understood that when he came to her after Nikolas was forced to reveal the truth after Spinelli and Sam's snooping. Jason always understood that when Elizabeth did something wrong, she usually had a good reason behind it.

Others were not as accepting of that.

Sam and Elizabeth had rocky history, to say the very least. Sam had done thing to Elizabeth and her family, all out of a 'moment of weakness' because she was jealous and vindictive that Elizabeth had given Jason the child she never could. Elizabeth had endured a great deal of the abuse because Sam could never have children due to being shot and having a hysterectomy out of misplaced guilt. The nurse wished she hadn't bent or caved so easily and hadn't allowed Sam to get away with those things back then because it set the precedent that Elizabeth was a doormat.

A doormat that Sam and Carly were attempting to walk on now.

They did not want Elizabeth near Jason, afraid that she would "get her claws into him" and whatever nonsense that spilled out of their lips. Elizabeth endured like she always did, with her sight kept on her kids and make sure they wanted for nothing if she could help it. As for Jason…at the end of their relationship in 2008, Elizabeth had been the one trying to hold things together while Jason had used danger as an excuse to not try. And it wasn't just that had made her hesitant to hope for anything more from Jason. Her and Jason had a habit of dancing around issues and there was a lot in their history to cause doubts that had never been fully addressed. Elizabeth wasn't sure she had the energy to dredge up ancient history in an effort exorcise all the ghosts in her past, especially those attached to Jason. After he had gotten back with Sam, she couldn't quite see him in a romantic way anymore. Her feelings towards him were purely platonic, and she couldn't pinpoint on when that change had happened.

She was walking down the hallway when a familiar blond rounded the corner. "Oh, God," Elizabeth whispered, barely containing an eyeroll. "You have to be kidding me."

Carly Corinthos deliberately stepped in front of Elizabeth, leaving her no way to move around with the janitor's cart blocking the other side of the hall unless she turned on heel. And Elizabeth wasn't about to give the blond the satisfaction of making her run away.

"Elizabeth," the blond stated, with a slight sneer.

"Carly," the nurse replied, flatly.

"So, do you have a minute?"

"Sorry, I don't have the time."

"You need to make time for me," Carly told her, the corner of her mouth lifted into a smug smirk. She folded her arms over her chest and stared down her nose at the brunette. "I want you to stay away from Jason. He doesn't need you or your little castaways complicating his life with Sam. I need you to let him go."

Elizabeth scoffed at her audacity. "You know what, you are unbelievable. Jason and I friends, we share a child and that means we are going to be a part of each other's lives. As for what he does with Sam or doesn't do, it isn't any of my business. Unlike you, I don't play mommy and monitor who Jason has in or out of his life."

"Listen here, you muffin-faced bitch," Carly snarled, her tiny bit of patience gone. "You might have everyone else fooled that you are a victim in Nikolas's scheme, and that there was nothing that you could do, but I see through you like I always have. Sam is the love of Jason's life, she is the one he married—"

"He also married Brenda and Courtney," Elizabeth interjected, glibly. "So that isn't exactly as big of an achievement as you think it is."

Her nostrils flared with a wrathful breath. "He is going to _remember—_he is going to remember everything, including why he cut you out of his life. So, this fleeting friendship you've started with him—probably on the pretense to secure your children a new daddy—is going to come to an end. You should just save yourself the humiliation and give up now."

Elizabeth let out a low chuckle and arched a brow. "Carly, don't pretend to know the ins and outs of my history with Jason."

"A one-night stand is hardly a history," Carly snapped.

"It was _several _nights," Elizabeth said, with a sharp smile. "Days, too. And hell, even if had been one-night stand like you want to believe, it was _years _in the making. You can rewrite history all you want to make your feel better or more secure that you know Jason better than the rest of us, but just because you tell yourself something over and over doesn't make it true."

Carly looked like she sucked on a sour lemon. It was a truth that she couldn't deny when confronted with it. Jason and Elizabeth had known each other for twelve years and have had a long-standing relationship. It hadn't always been a good one because of misunderstandings and people that came between them. It was good and bad and everything else in between, but the two of them had always found a way back to each other whether it was as friendship or something more.

"I'm looking out for Jason," Carly stated, primly.

"You always say that like it is a good thing," Elizabeth responded.

"He is my best friend. I will not let you drag him down."

"Carly, where is this coming from? I really don't understand. I have made no attempt to 'sink my claw' into Jason like you often accuse me," Elizabeth said, making air quotes with her fingers. "I don't know why you feel the need to come at me if things are going so well with Sam and Jason. Unless, of course, they aren't."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Carly accused.

"I wouldn't exactly shed tears," Elizabeth replied, bluntly.

"See, you are not this shining star. You can lie just like the rest of us. You can be as petty and vindictive just like the rest of us," the blond said, with a bitter smirk on her lips. "But Jason—Jason has a soft spot for the damsel in distress, so you can spin this story about Nikolas threatening you to get him to be sympathetic to you, but the rest of us know better."

"The rest of you know better? Hmm, okay," Elizabeth said.

She had seen this coming a mile away because this was typical Carly behavior. She had always felt the need to prove and pull Elizabeth down on her level, like that would somehow vindicate her controlling and bitchy ways. But Elizabeth had never claimed to be an angel, or to live on some grand pedestal above everyone else. That's why all the bullshit that came flooding out of Carly, or whoever else's mouths, didn't bother her. She had survived much, much worse.

"You tried over and over again to trap Jason, to turn him into the man…"

"You can believe that if it makes you happy."

"To live life by your rules."

"You love to do that, don't you?" Elizabeth asked, with an ironic tone of voice. She looked up at the blond with disgust written on her features, and felt a shudder run down the length of her spine. "I have never tried to force Jason to do anything, Carly. I never tried to make him be with me, or be a father, or set expectations that he had to follow in order to be a part of my life. That would be you, Sonny, and Sam. If Jason is doing something you don't approve of then you are there in the blink of an eye to harp on him to let him know what a mistake he is making."

"That isn't—" Carly started, but Elizabeth cut her off.

"And all of this—" Elizabeth waved her hand, gesturing at Carly. "All this projection and blustering—all it is, is an attempt to remove the guilt inside of you when it comes to Jason. You are so afraid that one day Jason is going to take a hard look at his life and his choices, and realize all that he had to give or miss out on because of his loyalty to you, Sonny and Sam." Her blue eyes were cold, and remorseless as she watched the way Carly went pale with anger. "And that he will hate ever last one of you for it."

Carly paled with anger. "Listen here, I am not going to let you do this push and pull crap that you've done with Jason over the years. You might have had a relationship with Jason, but you couldn't satisfy him—"

"I'm sorry, but which is it, Carly? Am I the one-night stand that won't go away? Or do I have a long history with Jason way before Sam even popped up like a bed bug in Port Charles?" Elizabeth said, with a mocking polite tone. Her head cocked to the side, and she glared daggers at Carly. "Am I the frigid bitch that can't satisfy Jason? Or am I the slut that is always jumping from bed to bed? You really need to pick a bandwagon and hop on it, because all this back and forth—well, it really shows that you don't know what the hell you are talking about when it comes to me, or who I am, or my relationship with anyone."

"Jason isn't made to play house. He needs danger, needs to take chances. He needs that excitement, and he will seek it out. Sam is the type of woman that can give him exactly what he needs," Carly taunted, harshly. She had a knuckle white grip on her clutch like she was holding back the urge to slap Elizabeth across the face. "And you are nothing, but a mistake that Jason wanted to forget."

"You really think that, don't you? That when he remembers that I will be nothing, but a bad memory—and God knows, that you'll try to convince in the meantime. You have this twisted need to have Jason obligated to you and you above all others, because you love him—in an obsessive, unhealthy way, you love him. Probably more than any man you have ever been romantically involved with," Elizabeth countered, hotly. The blond was testing the length of her patience, and she could feel her blood pressure rise underneath her skin with lava hot precision. "But you know, I have never tried to force Jason to ever push you out of his life. I respected your place in his life, but you have never respected mine."

"You have no place in Jason's life," Carly snapped.

"Too bad. That is for him to decide," Elizabeth said, with a smirk. "Now if you will excuse me, I have a job to do and it isn't to stand around and provide you with a verbal punching bag."

Elizabeth shoved past the blond without another word and marched down the hallway, attempting to reign in her hot temper. Her father used to joke about her being hotheaded just like her mom, back before they decided to venture off to be Doctors Without Borders and left her in the hands of the neighbors. She rebelled against their set plans and hopped on the first bus to Port Charles. Somedays, she regretted even stepping a foot in this hellhole of a city. The only good thing that came out of her messy life was her children, and the few steadfast friendships that had never failed her.

She must have walked up to the central nursing station with a look on her face because Patrick perked up, concern written plainly on his features. "Uh-oh, what's wrong?" He asked, his finger tapped on the keyboard and his eyes flickered from the screen to her.

"Oh, you know, nothing, everything." Elizabeth sighed, rolling the tension from her shoulders. "Just Carly running around to let the peons know that we aren't wanted. How are things with you?" She asked, curiously.

"Down the drain, into the gutter," Patrick mumbled, half-heartedly. He looked very tired and drained, like the life was being sucked out him day by day. "Sam is adamant that she wants to be with me. I am beginning to think the only reason she is clinging to our relationship is because she wants a reason to—to make herself feel better as to why she was so cold and harsh to Jason when he was Jake Doe. I wonder if she wants to spin it off in her mind like she was being that way not because she didn't feel a connection to him, but because she was trying to ward off temptation."

"I don't know," Elizabeth said, with a shrug. "The way Sam's mind works is a mystery to me."

Patrick gave her a long, knowing look. "Face it. You want to tell me, 'I told you so.'"

Elizabeth made a noncommittal noise. She searched through the patient charts, organizing them with great care.

"Have you thought about it?" Patrick asked.

"Thought about what?"

"You and Jason."

Elizabeth reached up and brushed her hair out of her face. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't, but…but it is just no the same. I mean, I feel a connection to him but after he went back to Sam—" She cut off with a hard sigh and turned to look at Patrick with a hesitant expression. "When Jake had just been born, Sam did some awful things to keep me and Jason apart. The fact that he could take her back after all of that, he just wasn't the same man that I had loved for so long. He was a completely different person and while I could still be his friend, I don't think I put my heart in his hands anymore."

"But you haven't really dated anyone since you broke up with him. I mean, I know there was Ewen, but that relationship never developed into something more," Patrick commented, without judgment.

"Jason was the love of my life." A sad smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and her eyes lowered to the floor while her shoulders slumped. She set the patient charts down and folded her arms over her chest. "But I know that I can live without him. I know that I can find love in other places if I looked hard enough. My entire world doesn't revolve around who I am with, but after so many failed relationships…I really don't want to go through the whole loving and then the inevitable heartbreak thing. There is just—I guess, something wrong with me that makes the men I love eventually leave," Elizabeth said, her voice small and weak. "It is the same thing that happens over and over, and I didn't want to be on the roller coaster any longer. I don't want to be broke down and made small by someone I trusted and loved, so love is officially off the table for me. _Forever._"

* * *

Laura Spencer walked out of Kelly's with a bag of takeout in her arm. Kevin Collins was going to be working all day and probably late into the evening, so she was going to have a movie day with Lulu and her grandbaby, Rocko. She pulled her cellphone out of her purse to text Lulu that she was on her way when Sam McCall stepped into her path. Laura hesitated for a moment, with a mixture of emotions swirling through her. She was regretful with all that Nikolas had done with hiding Jason's identity, and how many people that lie had hurt. That didn't change her active dislike of the brunette for all she did to Elizabeth and her grandchildren. (Elizabeth and her children would always be family in Laura's eyes.)

"Laura, I need to speak with you," Sam McCall stated.

"May I ask what about?" Laura asked, slowly.

Sam gave a mild huff, a flash of annoyance flickered in her dark eyes. "So, you know that Jake was with Jason at the Quartermains for a playdate a couple of days ago?" She asked, with her arms folded over her chest.

"Did something happen?" Laura asked. She knew that Jake was having trouble adjusting from being held prisoner for so long by Helena. The cruel witch had faked the child's death back in 2011 and had made Luke—her ex-husband—believe that he had hit him with a car. It was only a few months back that Luke had found him on Cassidine and brought him home. He was going through therapy sessions, and probably would for many years to come.

Sometimes, Laura feared that Helena brainwashed Jake like she did to Lucky all those years ago, and that Jake was a ticking time bomb. Every day that passed without incident made that fear ebb away, but it single lingered in the back of her mind. And if that wasn't enough to concern her, she didn't particularly like that Sam skulking around her grandchild. There had been a time that Sam had wished Jake dead.

"Nothing bad happened." Sam held up her hands, as if sensing Laura's shift in mood. "I just overheard Jake talking with Alice, about a bunch of things. One of those things was that he knew that you and Elizabeth are keeping a secret."

"Oh?" Laura raised a brow.

"And I am betting that is has something to do with Jason," Sam said, haughtily.

It took Laura a moment to comprehend what was said. "You cannot be serious…"

"You two are close to Nikolas," Sam commented.

"And we are guilty by association, are we?" Laura asked, in disbelief. She shook her head, astounded by the gall of this woman. "Elizabeth came clean about why she even kept Jason's identity from him. The lives of her children were at stake—"

"It is always about her kids, isn't it?" hissed Sam, bitterly.

Laura drew in a deep breath. "Any mother worth her salt would do whatever was necessary to keep her children safe. It is not something you can understand unless you are a parent," she said, with a narrowed eyed look.

Sam recoiled.

It was a low blow, perhaps. Laura still did not regret it. "Elizabeth was caught in between a bad spot, where Nikolas wanted someone to take down with him if the truth came out and was willing to twist her am in the only way he knew how through her kids," Laura stated, regaining her composure. "You should know, given that you have done the same thing."

"I have no idea what you mean," said Sam, with a glower.

"You know exactly what I am talking about," Laura countered, quietly. "I know all about Jake's kidnapping—both of them, and the fact that you hired gunmen to attempt to scare Elizabeth away from Jason because you were jealous of how close they were getting and the fact they shared a child."

Sam shifted on the balls of her feet and her eyes darted all over the small courtyard. There was a couple dining out on the veranda, and a group of teenagers taking selfies in front of the restaurant. "If you dare speak about that to anyone else, I will sue you for slander and defamation of character," the brunette threatened, her voice pitched low as to not be overhead by anyone.

"Try me," Laura dared, not willing to bullied. "I have a file full of information about Angela Monroe, Alicia Montenegro, Linda Black, Susan Curtis…well, you get the point. So many cons and crimes, and there are a few warrants out there—"

"No, this isn't about me. This about you and Elizabeth!" Sam sniped, angrily. Beads of sweat dotted around her upper lip, and her hands curled into fists at her side. "I don't believe that Elizabeth was being threatened by Nikolas. I think it is all a smoke screen to cover for the fact that she wanted to trap Jason, and she wasn't willing to go down with Nikolas when the truth came out."

"And I think that you want Elizabeth to be some villain," Laura said, smoothly. The blond had dealt with shrews like Sam many times in her life, and it was eerie how twisted their mindset was. "Because it would be easier to make her some evil temptress trying to ruin your life then admit that your relationship with Jason wasn't as rocky steady as you recall. You and he were on the path to divorce before he fell into the harbor, and there was no interloper to blame that on. So now, you are trying to find some to play villain so you can pretend that Jason's apathy towards you is something other than the fact that he isn't in love with you."

"Jason deserves the truth," Sam stated, fiercely.

"I—I believe that part of you believes that. I truly do." Laura gave the brunette a sympathetic smile, but she could see that no part of what she said next would make it through the stubborn mindset Sam was clinging to as if her life depended upon it. "And there might even be a tiny part of you that is genuine in that belief. Just like there is a tiny part of you that loves Patrick, but that is always going to be overshadowed by you want for Jason. It seems to be the only one creating obstacles and drama here is you. The only one standing in the way of your happiness is you, Sam. Now, if you will excuse me, I am late to meet with my daughter," she said, effectively ending the discussion. She walked around Sam, whose eyes burned on the back. Her stomach rolled uneasily, and once she was out of sight, Laura took a moment to breath. She chewed on her lower lip and unlocked her phone screen, scrolled through her contacts until she found a number that she swore she would never, ever use unless it is an emergency. Her finger hovered over the dial button before she pressed it, and then in the next second, she canceled the phone call.

She would just warn Elizabeth and Jason about Sam's behavior. She didn't need to get _him_ involved.

* * *

Carly moved to the elevators to leave when she came face to the one ex she wished she could erase from existence, or go back in time to shake herself for even getting involved with. Franco Baldwin was the bane of her existence and the source of all her most recent nightmares. Carly groaned, miserably when he approached her.

"Oh, that's sweet. Are you here to congratulate me, dear _wife_?" Franco taunted, with a wicked smirk on his face. "I'm working here again."

Carly gave him a thoroughly disgusted look. "Dr. Obretcht must like hiring people who make her look sane," she hissed, jabbing the button to call for the elevator. Any time she was near Franco, he made her skin crawl from head to toe and she couldn't believe that she fell for his 'tumor' act. "And don't call me 'dear wife.'"

"Ah, or maybe I'm really good at what I do. And I call you 'dear wife' because you are my darling, cheating, succubus of a wife? Or have you forgotten that you put a ring on it and made an honest man out of me?" He stated, lifting his wedding to show off the bright golden band still secured there.

"No, I haven't forgotten my colossal mistake in marrying you. Wh-what are you doing? Why are still wearing that ring? Take it off, Franco. Accept the reality that I won't be your wife much longer and that you will have no foothold in my life anymore," Carly said, bristling like a wet cat.

"I am a man of commitment. I want to work on our marriage to save it," Franco stated, with a toothy smirk. "Speaking of commitments, how is Morgan doing? All holed up in Shadybrooke, left by his parents and drugged all to hell—"

"Okay, look you stay the hell away from my children—"

"They are my step-children," Franco said, placing a hand over his heart. He looked at her with a mock wounded expression on his face. "I am very concerned about their welfare."

"They aren't your anything!" Carly stated, viciously. "I regret the moment that I bought into your whole wounded, sickly act all those years ago. I can't believe I was so desperate to crawl into your bed. It makes me sick to my stomach."

"You had no problem with my bed until Jason's identity came out. Everything was perfectly fine until then, but the second you realized Jason Morgan was back again, you ran into Sonny's arms. I am guessing you were attempting to recreate the weird, chaste ménage à trois," Franco responded, his expression went cold. His eyes were filled with resentment and darkness, and Carly took a step back away from him as a child ran down the length of her spine. "The three of you—you act so high and mighty—like you and yours don't stomp and trample over people to get what you want."

"Please tell me you aren't trying to lecture me on morality," Carly stated, with a shake of her head. "You are a sociopath who kills for the enjoyment of it. You had my son raped, and you made Sam think you raped her—these sick fucking mind of yours, all that bad karma will come back on you. You know what, enjoy this for now. This freedom you have, and whatever little cozy situation you have with Nina—"

"Aww, jealous?" Franco sneered.

Carly drew a deep breath and steeled her spine. She looked him straight in the eyes and held his stare even if it made her soul shrivel up in her chest. "Enjoy it for as long as it lasts, because it's all about to come crashing down on you."

The elevator doors opened, and she stepped inside. When they safely closed behind, Carly let out a deep breath and her body began to tremble from head to toe. She pressed her palm to her mouth while tears filled her eyes, and she hated herself in that moment. Franco could have been put away. He could have paid for all his mistakes, but she had helped give his tumor defense legitimacy. She had let a monster roam the streets, get near her children and it made her stomach turn.

* * *

Patrick stood there, with a look of shock and mild horrified was fixated on his face. "Elizabeth, there is nothing wrong with you. You are a beautiful, smart and compassionate woman. Sure, you have made a few mistakes and maybe trusted the wrong people, but we have all trusted someone who wasn't good for us in the love wrong. You have a lot of love and life to give to someone—and one day, a very lucky someone who is going to spend the rest of his life with a prize of a woman," he told her, earnestly.

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you for being such a good friend to me. You've really helped me through some tough times."

"You've done the same for me," Patrick said, with a boyish grin.

A head of blond hair came rushing around the corner and up behind the desk straight to Elizabeth. She chuckled, wrapping an arm tight around Jake and stroking his hair gently. "Hey, sweetheart. How did the therapy session go with Dr. Collins?"

"Good," Jake mumbled. He pulled back and looked up at her, with a tired expression. "Mommy, do I have to keep coming to the doctor? I don't feel all that sick, and all we do is talk. Talking is so troublesome."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Honey, you do have to keep up with these appointments. I know how tiring and frustrating it can be," she said, bending down on one knee to be on eye level with her child. She clasped his hands in hers and squeezed them lightly. "I used to have to go talk to someone to."

"You did?" Jake asked, surprised.

"Yep, I did. And I know on the outside you feel fine, and that is no scraps or bruises. But sometimes, we have…we have pain that is trapped on the inside. A kind of pain that is hard to put into words and makes our emotions feel all kind of crazy and jumbled up. That's what talking Dr. Collins is supposed to help heal, okay?" Elizabeth replied, with a sympathetic smile. She watched him nod and then patted his cheek gently. "If in a few weeks that it doesn't feel like we are making any progress, then we will both go to Dr. Collins and see if there is another type of therapy you can do."

Jake gave her such a serious little look that reminded her so much of Jason that it made her heartache. "Do you promise?" He said, slowly.

"Cross my heart," Elizabeth promised, with a big smile.

"If you are looking for alternative routes of therapy, then might I ask suggest some art therapy? I hear expression is good for the soul," a voice interrupted the conversation. Elizabeth looked up past Jake to see Franco standing there, and she immediately stood, pushing Jake behind her. "Now, why do got to be like that? All I was trying to do was help."

"They don't need your kind of help," Patrick said, scathingly.

"Is this a hostile work environment? Because the room feels very hostile to me right now," Franco said, with his head cocked to the side. "And I don't know. Art therapy might help Jake express any demons that he has up inside of his head. Do you like draw and paint, Jakey?"

"Yes…" Jake said quietly.

"That's enough of that," Elizabeth said, firmly. "Patrick, you said when you took lunch then you could drop Jake off with the sitter, right?" At his nodded, she added, "Why don't you take an early lunch? There are no patients or consultations scheduled, and if something comes up then I'll call to let you know."

"Got it," Patrick replied. "Come on, Jake. I think Marceline is going to take you and Cameron and Emily out to the bowling alley. Don't that sound like fun?"

"Yeah." Jake grinned.

Elizabeth told her son and friend goodbye with the best smile she could muster. As soon as they were out of sight, the smile dropped off her face and she whipped around to face hospital's most recent resident psychopath. "You stay the hell away from my child," she said, with a fury burning bright in her eyes. "You don't look at him or talk to him."

"Okay, you seem overly upset about a simple conversation," Franco said, with dumbfounded expression.

"Look, I am not your friend. I don't want to even be your co-worker," Elizabeth told him, with a cold tone. "But because Dr. Obretcht is your biggest fan, this unavoidable. That just means I must be civil to you on hospital hours, but not when it comes to my kids. You will never have anything to do with my kids."

"Hey, hey, all I am trying to offer you a bit of help. I understand that Jake has been through a lot, and you did me a solid, anyway. The longer Jason stays in the dark about who he is, the better for me…because if he ever remembered who he was…I might be in serious trouble," Franco stated, very seriously.

Elizabeth felt she had been doused in cold water. "Oh, God." Her blood felt like ice in her veins and her stomach twisted. "You are absolutely twisted. I didn't keep Jason's identity because I wanted to. I did it because my children were being threatened. If I had my way, the truth about who he was would have come at the Nurses Ball. And believe me, I hope that Jason gets his memory back. It might finally mean justice for all the people that you have hurt," she told him, her brow arched upward.

"Okay, look, I was a very sick man. I did horrible things, but that was the tumor," Franco told her, frustration leaking into his voice. "And I explained how—how my game with Jason got out of my control. I didn't mean for all those bad things to happen."

Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Even if I believed that, which I don't, it doesn't matter what your intentions were. You terrorized people. You killed people. You even attempted to kidnap my daughter—"

"She is adopted. That doesn't really count, now does it?" Franco rolled his eyes.

She glared at him in disgust. His lack of accountability for the wrongs he had done, and the way he couldn't understand simple matter like right and wrong is why she would never believe he has turned over a new leaf. "It does count to me. She is still my child, blood or not. She was an innocent baby that you tried to steal to give to your mother. That is one of the tamer crimes you committed," Elizabeth said, unmoved by his attempt to somehow unburden himself from the blame of his crimes or his justifications. "You can try to spin how it was all the tumor. You can try to redeem yourself by inserting yourself anywhere you can play the good guy. But I will never believe it, and neither will anyone else." The phone rang and Elizabeth reached for it. "Now, if that is all? I have a job to do."

Franco stared at her darkly before he turned on heel and marched away. She released a breath she had been holding in tight and picked the phone up out of the cradle. "You have reached General Hospital Nursing Station. I am Nurse Elizabeth Webber, if this is a medical emergency, we urge you to call—"

"_Elizabeth, thank God, it's you."_

Elizabeth blinked in surprise. "Robin?"

* * *

The gym was closed for some minor renovations. Sonny Corinthos was the owner, so he still came into use a punching bag occasionally. He punched the bag with a fury, until a throat cleared behind him. He turned around to come face to face with Jason Morgan, his former business partner and former enforcer. It was still mind boggling that he was standing here, alive and well. "Hey, Jason, didn't here you come in," Sonny said, walking over the nearby bench and pulling his water bottle out of his gym bag. "What can I do for you?"

"Ah, I just needed to talk," Jason replied, with a wry grin. "If you have the time, that is."

"For you? Always." Sonny took a deep drink of the water to soothe his parched throat and then set the bottle beside him. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"There—there is just a lot on my mind. I know who I am supposed to be, or so everyone keeps telling me. It is still hard to swallow everything, having my past being fed to me bit by bit. And it doesn't help when people are wanting to point the finger in every direction," Jason responded, sitting down beside him. He rolled the tension out of his shoulders and stared out across the room filled with plastic traps and scaffolding. "Nikolas was the one who lied. He took advantage of the mess that Helena Cassidine created, and then got the people he supposedly loved involved in it. He bought their silence through threats."

"It is a low that I never thought Nikolas capable of," Sonny said, with a small nod. "I suppose the latent Cassidine genetics decided to come back with a vengeance."

"Yeah, I guess. But he is in jail," Jason said, in a mild tone. "He is going to pay for what he did Hayden, what he attempted to do to me, and everything should be said and done."

"But…" Sonny prompted.

"But some people want to hold others responsible," Jason commented, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Carly…Carly seems convinced that Elizabeth was in on the scheme. Like actively a part of it and that the whole being threatened is just a cover up to save face."

"Hmmm. To be fair, Carly is hardly reasonable when it comes to Elizabeth."

"That couldn't be more obvious." Jason chuckled.

"Do you believe it? That she could have been?" Sonny questioned, mildly.

"I don't know…I know that Elizabeth has lied before, but…but there usually a good reason for it. It might not be entirely justifiable, but it is always understandable. And I caught…I caught Nikolas in Elizabeth's face at the bar the Floating Rib—" Jason hesitated for a moment, his blue eyes narrowed as he recalled it. "I remember how shaken she was, and how hard she tried to hide it. She was frightened, Sonny."

"It is a frightening thing to see someone you loved, someone you viewed as a friend and see someone unrecognizable in their place," Sonny commented, with a quiet and thoughtful expression on his face. "I don't think that I can tell you want to believe. I think you have to look at what everyone stood to gain from keeping your identity a secret, and then make an objective decision."

The door opened and in strode Carly. "Hey, am I interrupting?"

"No, no," Jason said, with a shake of his head. "I was just leaving. There's something I need to do before the day is done. Uh, thank you, Sonny. For listening."

"Anytime," Sonny promised.

Jason gave Carly a quick hug and walked out the door. Carly stood there with a suspicious look on her face, her eyes swung from the door that shut behind Jason and Sonny. Her hands fell to her hips and she asked, "What was that about?"

"Can you promise me something?" Sonny asked.

Carly sighed. "What?"

"That if I tell you what Jason and I talked about, you're not going to run after him and chew his ear off?" Sonny gave his ex-wife a long and knowing look.

"Oh, come on, that's not fair. That's not—"

"Carly, I'm serious," Sonny replied.

Carly pursed her lips with a glare. She huffed, dropping her hands from her hips. "Fine. I won't go running after him. Now, tell me what is going on," the blond demanded, sharply.

"Jason came to me to talk about everything with the lie and Nikolas, and about Elizabeth," Sonny stated, and held up his hand when Carly opened her mouth. "And he was just confiding in me that he didn't believe that Elizabeth was a part of the scheme, beyond knowing about it and Nikolas threatening her to keep quiet."

Carly exploded. "Oh, my God! What is it going to take for Jason to see that scheming bitch for what she really is? She is all wrong for Jason. It took him years to figure it out, but now—now he is a blank slate and you bet that Elizabeth has been using that to her advantage this whole time."

"Elizabeth avoided Jason," Sonny stated, pointing it out. "She was friends with him, at best. And an acquaintance, at worst. If she really wanted to trap Jason don't you think that she would have been working him since Nikolas told her all those months ago."

"She was biding her time, Sonny!" Carly snapped. "She becomes his friend, slips into his confidence and paints this pretty image of herself like she is some sweet angel from above that can do no wrong to lure him in before she starts to pull him apart by the seams. By the time she slips up and shows her true colors, it might be too late for Jason. He might have drove the woman he truly loves away and ended up making the biggest mistake of his life."

Sonny looked away. "Jason and Elizabeth…that's a lot of history."

"Oh, please," Carly said, with an eyeroll.

"They do, Carly," Sonny replied. "Sometimes, history wins."

"You can't—please tell me that you aren't supporting this. Elizabeth has never been able to handle Jason's world. She has always turn him upside down and made him twist himself inside out," Carly whispered, incredulously.

"I know that. I never said I supported it," Sonny corrected her, with a long, flat look. "Elizabeth…she is a bleeding-heart. She can't handle the kind of life that Jason led—that is something he'll have to see for himself. He'll have to see that this life is one that Elizabeth can't live."

"And how is he going to see that?" Carly asked. "He is blind where she is concerned."

Sonny tapped his fingers against his chin. "Slowly, but surely, Jason will come back to us. He always has. He'll remember who his real family is. One way or another."

* * *

Patrick arrived home to find Sam sitting on the couch. "Hey, how is going…" He trailed off when he saw the little glass phoenix clasped tight in her hands. She tried to hide as soon as she realized that he was there, and she put on a plastic smile. "I suppose I know why you have been dragging your feet on the divorce," he commented, drolly.

"That's…that's not fair. I just found out Jake Doe was Jason. And you should know that it isn't so easily to give up on a marriage. Jason and I will get a divorce, but what does it matter if it happens next week or next month?" Sam said, defensively. She rose up off the couch and tucked the phoenix into her jeans pocket.

"It matters a lot, actually." Patrick couldn't believe that she was so unaware of why this was an issue. "It feels like you had one foot in the past and the other in the present. It sends a message of a lack of commitment to us as a couple, and a family."

Sam looked at him, baffled. "Are you kidding me? I—I told you want I wanted. It's you and Emma. I want a family with you here in this house. Why, all the sudden, is my word not good enough?" She asked, brokenly.

Patrick slunk off his jacket. "It doesn't help when I come home catching you looking longingly at that statue. It doesn't help that you have gone out of your way to spend every moment that you aren't here with Jason. I just don't know where our relationship sits right now," he offered her, honestly.

"This relationship—it means everything to me," Sam whispered. "How can you not understand what I am going through? After what you've been through with Robin. You should know how this has turned my life upside down. It is frustrating and wonderful and difficult. I just need your time and patience."

He looked away from her for a long moment and nodded ever so slightly. "I'm trying, Sam. I'm trying. I would just like a sign that you are invested in this life with because I—I have nothing."

"I—I don't know how to give that to you. Not until I know the truth."

"The truth about what?" asked Patrick.

"Whether or not Nikolas really threatened Elizabeth," Sam replied, her tone firm. There was a gleam in her eyes that immediately set Patrick on ease. "I already confronted Laura about it, but she denied it—"

"Are you serious, Sam?" Patrick asked, incredulously. "You saw—you saw Elizabeth when Carly revealed the truth—it was like a great weight was lifted from her shoulders. She was the one who confirmed what Carly and Spinelli suspected when Nikolas tried to deny everything."

Sam rolled her eyes so hard. "Patrick, she was just trying to cover her own ass."

Patrick made a strangled noise in his throat. "Sam, I am trying—trying to have understand what you are going through because you are right that I went through a similar thing when Robin returned, and I was about to go down the aisle with Sabrina. And I know that you want someone to lash out against," he spoke, after taking a deep cleansing breath. He looked at her beseechingly, hoping to get through the sea of anger and anguish that she had to be going through. "You need a target for your rage because Helena is dead. Nikolas' trial hasn't happened yet, and he is locked up so tight that you can't confront him face to face. Elizabeth is close to Nikolas, so you are using her as a replacement—"

"That isn't what I am doing," Sam snapped, unable to contain herself. "I am trying to hold that lying snake accountable for once in her damn life, and I don't see why everyone is so quick to give her the benefit of the doubt given how many lies and lives she had blown apart."

Patrick stood there, staring at her with his jaw agape. His heart felt heavy in his chest and there was a knot where his stomach should be. It just felt they had been having the same maddening, circular argument ever since Jason's identity came out into the open. She would sprout conspiracies about Nikolas and all those involved and point a finger at Elizabeth as if she solely were to blame for all of it. Patrick would try to be the voice of reason and calm, but he never got through to her no matter how hard he tried.

It just…it just wasn't worth it anymore.

"I can't do this anymore." His voice barely more than a breathy whisper. He scrubbed his hand along his jaw and drew in a deep breath. "I can't do this anymore with you, Sam," Patrick repeated, this time louder. His brown eyes lifted from his feet and met her startled gaze from across the room. "I can't do this back forth, and play all these games—"

"Wh—what are you talking about?" Sam asked, aghast.

"You want to be with Jason," he accused, his tone light.

"What? No, I love you—we are good together," Sam denied, vehemently. She stepped towards him, only to falter. She ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head side to side. "Jason doesn't even remember our life together."

"But you do. You remember and you want that back. That's why you want Elizabeth to be lying," Patrick responded, dropping his coat along the arm of the couch. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the woman that he had grown to love with a sinking despair in his heart.

"She had been lying," Sam countered, with a frown.

Patrick flicked his tongue against the back of his teeth in annoyance. "She admitted why she lied when Carly and Spinelli exposed Nikolas's lie. Nikolas threatened her—hey," he said, pointing a finger at her when she scoffed in disbelief. "Hey, don't do that. Please, don't do that with me. I know that you don't like Elizabeth, but she isn't some manipulator that you are hoping she is."

"Then you obviously don't know your friend as well as you think," Sam replied, her upper lip curled.

"I know you and Elizabeth have a past, particularly involving Jason. She told me—"

Sam visibly cringed back. "She told you? Oh, that—that scheming—it was a moment of weakness. I wouldn't have watched Jake get kidnapped—" She cut off when Patrick made a choked noise, and she watched the way his eyes flared with disbelief and shock. "Oh, God. Oh, God," she whispered, her stomach turned when she realized that Elizabeth hadn't told Patrick any details. "Shit. Patrick, I—"

"You watched Jake get kidnapped?" Patrick asked, his face pale.

"Yes, but I was in a bad place. I'm not the same person as I used to be," Sam defended herself, with tears springing up in her eyes. "I've changed and grown, but Elizabeth hasn't—"

Patrick shook his head. "God, I understand it now. The desperate need to paint Elizabeth as a heartless manipulator is because you—you did horrible things to her and to Jason, putting them through hell," he whispered out.

"No. Patrick, this is happening really fast, and I just—I just found out…" Sam sobbed, reaching up to wipe the tears off her cheeks. "Less than a month ago that Jason is alive…and please…the past is in the past."

"But it isn't. Not for you," Patrick told her, tonelessly. "Not for you, because you know that if Jason was half of the man that he is proclaimed to be then eventually he would remember everything—"

"Don't…"

"—and you need to do something right, to make sure just in case Jason remembers the ugly parts of your relationship first, that you would still look better in—"

"No."

"—comparison to Elizabeth. That is why you want her to be lying about protecting her kids from Nikolas. That is why you want her to be so irredeemable because then you could sit happy in your penthouse as second choice—"

"Stop! Just stop!" Sam screeched at the top of her lungs. Her dark eyes glittered venomously, and Patrick felt like he was seeing her clearly for the first time. "Just stop it! That's not true! None of that is true! I feel Jason deserve to know the truth, alright? He deserves the truth…" Her voice faltered ever so slightly, and she swallowed thickly. "He deserves the truth…"

"And whose truth would that be? His truth, or yours?" Patrick questioned, unsympathetically. "It's probably better we don't try and drag this out, Sam. It's always been very confusing for Emma, and I…God, I can't believe I let you in my life."

Sam reached out to him only to stop short when he moved away from her. "Patrick, I still want to marry you. Please," she begged, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "Please, I love you. I love Emma like she is my own—please don't take that away from me!"

"That's…that's not going to happen. Whether we like it or not. Jason is always going to be this fixation for you. You are always going to feel the need to insert yourself into his life and into the danger. I can't marry you knowing that part of you is praying to be with another man. So much so that you compromise yourself and your morals," Patrick stated, with a drew breath. Tears clung to his lashes and he pressed his palm against his mouth, feeling his heart thumped painfully in his chest.

"Emma…" Sam whispered out.

"I'll explain things to her," Patrick said, shortly.

Sam chewed on her lower lip and then nodded. She stumbled past him, unsteady on her high heels and grabbed her jacket from the coat rack by the door. There was a moment of hesitation when she paused, wringing the jacket in between her hands and she glanced at him hoping that he would turn around to look at her. He didn't spare her a glance, and Sam walked out the door. As soon as it closed behind her, Patrick sank onto the couch and buried his face into his hands.

* * *

The florescent light buzzed noisily above her head in the locker room. Elizabeth put away her things into the locker in a hurry, gnawing at her lower lip in worry while she replayed the frantic conversation with Robin over in her mind. Robin had been so vague and tight lipped but wanted Elizabeth to meet up at an address that she was unfamiliar with. There was a part of her that was hesitant, but Robin had always been loyal and trustworthy to her. Elizabeth managed to get Nadine Crowell to cover the rest of her shift, knowing that she would likely be hearing it from Obretcht.

It didn't matter though. She would be free from this place. It made her because the hospital had been such an important staple in her life. These walls had once been her sanctuary and her refuge after she had just had Cameron. It was the place where she grew and changed as a person, as a nurse and a mother. She wouldn't be the woman she was today without the hospital and the people inside of it, but it was hardly recognizable anymore. So many new faces and not enough of the old ones. Too much drama and not enough healing.

She headed out of the doors and reeled back when she almost collided with someone. "Oh, I am so sorry! I—" She faltered at the sight of Jason, and she blinked up at him. "Oh, Jason," she said, his name rolling awkwardly over her tongue. It was strange calling him that and she supposed it was because she had gotten used to calling him Jake Doe. It just—it just felt weird.

"Hey, Elizabeth. How are you?" Jason asked.

"Well, I was on my—" Elizabeth cleared her throat. She couldn't tell anyone about Robin's call. Her friend had been very adamant about that. "I have to go relieve the babysitter. Emily is sick and she doesn't want to catch because my kids aren't the only ones that she watches. Don't want to start an outbreak," she said, with a chuckle. "What are you doing here? At the hospital? Is everything okay? You're not sick or anything."

"No. Nope, I'm fit as a fiddle," Jason stated, scratching at his chin sheepishly. "I—I actually came to talk to you if you had a minute."

"A lot of people have been asking me for that," Elizabeth replied, wryly. "Minutes. I mean, I can talk for a second but then I really need to get going because—"

"The kids, yeah." Jason nodded, absentmindedly. "I just wanted—I just wanted to talk to you. To see how you were doing, after everything. Nikolas is about to go to trial, and despite the circumstances, I can't imagine anyone has been kind to you."

"I can handle anything that is thrown my way. You don't have to worry about me," Elizabeth told him, with a half-smile.

"But I do," Jason whispered, "you know, worry. You—you have been my friend since I first got here—got back here, and you believed in me through the physical therapy, through Helena's mind control, and I know there are some who would try to forget all that in favor of the lie, but I don't. I don't forget it."

"Jason, I—" Elizabeth wasn't sure what to say.

"I miss being your friend," he replied, honestly. "I miss being able to come to you and talk without looks or judgments. I barely get to see you anymore. I enjoyed the time that we spent together. I wish we could have that again."

"So do I," she replied, with her heart in her throat. "I just don't think it's possible."

"You don't—don't think it is possible for us to be friends?" Jason said, with a wounded expression.

"I imagine that Carly and Sam would have a lot to say if we continued being friends," Elizabeth hedged, her gaze swept away from him. The truth is that as much as she valued Jason's friendship, she didn't want to start to place weight in his words and start to trust him only to end up on the outside once more. When his identity was kept under wraps, she could be friends with him without the fear of the past or others trying to stick their nose into it. And history had taught her that Jason would always become wrapped up in Sonny's problems as his enforcer—first, last and always.

There had been a brief time when she thought Jason would break out of that mold—for her and the kids, but their love and family hadn't been enough. Jason walked away and slid back into old patterns, becoming almost unrecognizable to her. Friendship with him would come with a lot of baggage, on both of their parts. It was an uphill battle that she never seemed to win, and when it was over, she was further down the hill than when she started.

"Carly and Sam don't speak for me," Jason responded, confusion furrowed along his brow. "It is my decision who I have in my life, and I want you to be a part of it."

"You shouldn't—you shouldn't be concerned about me. You should be concerned about the life that was stolen from you. The wife you left behind and the people you were closest to," Elizabeth stated, with a shake of her head. "You should try to stir up some kind of memories and see if you can remember your life."

Jason wasn't so easy persuaded. "You are a part of my life, a part of my memories. I have already remembered memories of you," he said, his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. He looked frustrated, like he was struggling to articulate what he was feeling. "Maybe the key to unlocking my past if through you."

Elizabeth looked up at him, sadly. "I—I can't be your miracle cure," she whispered, feeling her chest ache for him. She could tell that he was so torn, and she hated that she was adding to his pain. "Remember when we first met, and you were under Helena's control? You didn't want to be close to me because you were afraid that at any moment that she would make you hurt me. You told me that if we spent time together, you didn't think you could stop yourself from wanting more. And that even if we tried to just be friend, it would be pretty complicated."

Jason closed his eyes. "I—I remember that."

"That's not good for us," she said, quietly. It was a rabbit hole that she didn't want to be dragged down. While she felt no stirs of romantic feelings when she looked at Jason now, she feared that the memories and the time together might reignite those old feelings. She didn't want to get used to being somebody he loved, and have all these hopes and dreams, only to have to pick up the shattered pieces again. And she didn't want to take advantage of his lack of memories. The thought of that made her sick from the bottom of her soul. "I'm sorry."

Jason swallowed, thickly. "So am I."

Elizabeth drew in a shaky breath. "I have to go. Goodbye, Jason," she said, softly. She turned away from him, so she didn't have to see the sorrow in his blue eyes and know that she put it there. She got into the elevator, and the trip down to the parking lot seemed to take forever. She got in her vehicle and cued up the GPS navigator on her dashboard, putting in the address that Robin had given her. It was going to be quite a drive and she likely wouldn't be home in time to see the kids off to bed.

She dialed in the only person that she could think of. Aimee Lancaster had been her neighbor ever since 2009 when the red head had moved in across the street. She was a bit of recluse with horrible agoraphobia but was a nice woman with a heart of gold. She had become good friends with Elizabeth, and occasionally helped with the children. "Hey, Aimee, I am sorry to bother you. I know you planned on writing on your programs this weekend, but I need a huge favor. Yeah, there is an emergency that came up with a family friend and it is all the way out in Ithaca," Elizabeth explained, pulling out onto the main highway. "It would be a three-hour trip there and back, and I don't know how long this is going to—you can? Thank you, Aimee. You are a life saver. I'll text Rosalie and let her know that you'll be taking care of the kids tonight. Thanks again. Goodbye."

She hung up the phone and texted the message to Rosalie with one hand as quickly as she could. She didn't want to get pulled over, especially given a lot of cops used to work with her ex-husband. She was treated like she left Lucky on a whim, instead of the drugs and the cheating. The fact that she had a child with an alleged mobster was another black mark against her. She set the phone down in the passenger seat and her thoughts weighed on her mind the whole drive. She had to turn around twice because she missed her exit, she was so distracted.

Flipping through the radio channels, Elizabeth settled on station that was playing some old songs from the 90s. She recognized the song immediately. It was a Paula Cole song that she had loved and had listened to incessantly on her CD Walkman. 'I Don't Want to Wait' was the title, she believed. The lyrics struck her now more as an adult and everything that she had been through. She couldn't believe she had forgotten about this song, she thought with a small nostalgic grin that pulled on her lips. She listened to the station for a little bit longer, (with songs like "Come as You Are" by Nirvana, "Stay (I Missed You)" by Lisa Loeb, and "Who Wants to Live Forever" by Queen.)

The drive took her out of the city, where the buildings thinned out and the trees began to thicken. There wasn't a lot of countryside in New York state that hadn't been industrialized, filled with forest and waterfalls. It was beautiful and serene, so different from Port Charles. She came upon a large estate with stone walls and a large iron gate, and she drove up to them with a sense of apprehension coursing through her veins. She put in the code that Robin had given her, and the gates opened right up.

"Robin, what have you gotten me into?" Elizabeth questioned.

She drove the quarter mile up the brick driveway that was enshrined by great oak trees on either side, all the way up to the mansion. It was a breathtaking place and everywhere she looked, she saw something that tickled the artist in her. The crystal, clear blue lake to the right of the property where ducks swam lazily, and the quant lake house next to it. Beyond the lake was an apple orchard and a vineyard next to it. One the right side of the house seemed to be a large garden with almost every color of flower and plant imaginable, arranged in a way that made her feel like Alice in Wonderland. _Who owns this place? _Elizabeth thought, feeling way out of her element.

She pulled her car up alongside of the black sedan that was parked in the circular driveway. She got out of the car slowly and was relieved when Robin came out of the front door. She immediately pulled the other brunette into a tight hug. "Robin, it is so good to see you," Elizabeth said, her voice trembling with emotion. "Emma and Patrick are going to be so happy that you are back in Port Charles. You are back, aren't you?" She pulled away to peer at Robin's face. "For a while this time?"

"Forever, if I have my way," Robin promised.

"That's great!" Elizabeth smiled, elated. She held onto her friend's hands tightly, and her smile dimmed a little bit. "But that—that isn't what you want to talk about. You sounded frantic on the phone call. Are you in some kind of danger? What is going on?"

"It's—everything is complicated," Robin stated, with a weary tone. She had dark circles around her eyes and her cheeks were sunk in, like she was one step shy of being emaciated. Her hair was tied back into a messy bun, split ends sticking out all over the place and she was dressed in a sweatshirt, and slacks. It was startling only because Robin was always meticulous about her appearance, so it made Elizabeth all that more concerned. "This is a safe house, I think. We came here to avoid, um, eyes and ears. I—I have been held against my will at a facility. Helena wanted to work on some research into cryogenics and memory graphing. When she died, I thought maybe I would be freed, but then I heard Nikolas took helm of the whole operation."

Elizabeth closed her eyes in despair. "God, I thought I already knew the worst about what he had done. I am so sorry, Robin. I had this feeling that the way you left after coming back from the dead that there was more to the story, but I—I didn't trust my gut instincts. I should have looked harder at the way you left," she told her, her voice rough with regret.

"It's not your fault, Elizabeth," Robin whispered. "Helena covered her tracks well. If you had tried to get involved, you would have been in danger and the point of me going was to keep all my friends and family safe."

Elizabeth opened her eyes to peer at Robin, worriedly. "You're safe, right? There isn't someone who is going to try to snatch you again?"

"Not that we know of. My mom and dad did a pretty good job of cleaning house. They teamed up to save me, but I wasn't the only one that they saved," Robin said, with tears glittering in her gaze.

"There were others? Other people we know?" Elizabeth asked, shocked.

Robin nodded, unable to speak. She just stepped aside so Elizabeth had a clear view of the front door, and she watched the door pull open slowly. A man stepped out onto the terrace—a man that shouldn't be possible. She stared, unable to move, unable to think. Her entire world had come to a standstill while she stared into those piercing blue eyes from across the room, and a thousand memories careened through her threatening to steal her very breath away. The familiar sharp and beautiful planes of his face, his dark blond hair slicked back out of the way, the small smile that curled along his mouth—all of them shook her to her core, and her hands flew over her mouth when a sob wracked through her. That missing spark—the connection that pulled her like gravity and encompassed her entire being like she was _home. _Her heart _knew_ this man in an instant.

"_Jason."_ His name fell of her lips like a litany.

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER!**

Author's Note 2: While I love the legacy of General Hospital and its vast history (given the conception of the show was way back in 1963), there have been times that I have stopped watching because of storylines or vet characters written out of character and decimated to fit a plot point. Particularly the character of Elizabeth Webber who I feel the writers have turned upside down or twisted in ways that just don't fit her character. There was even an interview with the actress who plays Elizabeth Webber on a storyline in 2015 that she felt was out of character for Elizabeth, and she has been playing that character for 18 years at that point so I feel her opinion of the character is more valid than writers who come and go. As Elizabeth is my favorite character, I do like to go back and write "what-ifs" that I would like to have seen for that character.

Fan Casting:

Rebecca Herbst as Elizabeth Webber

Steve Burton as Jason Morgan

Lyndsy Marie Fonseca as Aimee Lancaster

Aiden Turner as Ross Darnell

(The role of Carly is played by Sarah Brown or Laura Wright, you chose which Carly you preferred, but I see either one of these actresses as the Carly depicted here. And the role of Nina is played by Rachelle Lefevre. The rest of the cast is the same as what is currently on the show)

Fan Soundtrack: 1.) "In Your Arms" by X Ambassadors ft. Illenium 2.) "Bad Dreams" by Faouzia 3.) "Someone You Loved" by Lewis Capaldi 4.) "Carry You" by Ruelle ft. Fleurie 5.) "Nothing Else Matters" by Marlisa 6.) "Mad World" by Imagine Dragons 7.) "Assassins" by Au/Ra 8.) "Outsiders" by Au/Ra 9.) "Crossfire" by Stephen 10.) "Blood/Water" by grandson 11.) "Let Her Go" by Jasmine Thompson 12.) "Love, Love, Love" by Of Monsters and Men 12.) "Way Down We Go" by KALEO 13.) "Madness" by Ruelle

RRs are appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any character or history from General Hospital. That is the sole property of ABC. I am writing this because I love the history and stories for the most part, and to challenge myself as a writer in order to one day perhaps write original stories of my own.

Summary: (Set in 2015) When lies overshadow the truth, the world is a dark and unforgiving place. When the truth about Jason is revealed, it was supposed to be all over, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. Secrets and dangers stalk the streets of Port Charles, and no one is prepared for the fallout.

Pairings: Eventual Elizabeth/Jason

Aimee/Ross (Original Characters)

Robin/Patrick

*mentions of past relationships*

***changes*** Aimee was original supposed to be recluse writer. She is no longer a writer.***

I want to thank, Bryantk82, Jmmartinez, ERCommandoTwilight, Twisted Musalih, trini12180, babeboo1968, for the favs.

I want to thank, Bryantk82, DisneyPrincess1986, Jmmartinez227129, kcke2pen, lsmalltown8, ERCommandoTwilight, Keoje3530, aphass, leeleelaya5, trini12180, ReedBrenda75, babeboo1968, Starbright62, for the follows.

And I want to give a special thanks to, noscruples, notenoughlove, fundays, kcke2pen, RobJas, trini12180, leasmom, mindy young, Guest 1, acoiris0502 Jmmartinez227129, Guest 2, babeboo1968, for the reviews!

* * *

**Chapter Two**

—**chapter them song**—

—_"Little Talks" _**by Of Monster and Men**—

* * *

Jason Morgan felt his heart thump at the base of his neck, his nose pressed against the window panel on the right side of the knotty alder front door. Through the frosted ivy swirled in the glass, he could make out the hazy image of the woman he loved more life itself. There hadn't been a day that he hadn't dreamed or wished to see Elizabeth, and the boys. His tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his chapped lips, and he shifted on the balls of his feet while he heard snippets of the conversation between Robin and Elizabeth. It took every ounce of willpower to not to rush out the door and sweep Elizabeth into his arms, and never let her go ever again. A knot of emotion was wedged in the back of his throat and he felt his eyes glaze over with tears, while he rubbed a hand down the side of his face. Each second passed by with the weight of eternity until Robin turned to the side and met his gaze through the window, and that was all the permission he needed to step out the front door.

He stepped out onto the gray stone terrace, and he felt like his heart would explode when those beautiful blue eyes met his. All the love that he felt for this woman came rushing at him like a tidal wave and he watched the emotions play out across her face. She was always so expressive like that. Her eyes drank in the sight of him, shock and disbelief gave away to hope and fear. She started to tremble from head to toe, and her feet guided her toward as if compelled by gravity. He rushed down the steps to meet her, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up off the ground. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she buried her face into his neck with a sob.

It felt like everything had aligned and everything in the world was made right by just having her here in his arms. "Oh, my God, it is you. It's really you," Elizabeth whispered, her voice cracking. "I—I don't understand. How—how is this possible?"

He released her with great reluctance and brushed her hair out of her face so he could look at her. He looked at her like a man starved and the palm that settled against the apple of her cheek shook ever so slightly. "Helena took me away. Hid me in a facility in Nova Scotia," he responded, quietly. "Robin was being held there against her will, and when her parents freed her, they stumbled across me."

Elizabeth sucked in a hard breath. "Of course, it was Helena. It is _always_ Helena. She took Jake and she took you, she took Robin—oh, God, she must have been planning this for years," she said, all the blood draining out of her face.

"Helena never did take losing very well," Robin interjected, quietly.

Elizabeth nodded, shakily. Her hands slid down around his neck and then settled on Jason's chest. Her eyes hadn't left his face, and her chin quivered ever so slightly. "Helena always did hate those that stood in her way. Have—have you told him about—" She glanced over at Robin, with a hint of worry in her gaze.

"About Jake Doe?" Jason guessed, lightly. "Yeah. Yeah. Robin told me about him."

Elizabeth looked at him incredulously. "Jason, there is a man—a man who is living your life, who thinks that he is you and he has gotten close with the people you love," she said, frantically. She took a step away from him, and his heart lurched at the loss of contact. She waved her hands in the air, struggling to articulate her words. "Jason, Sam thinks that he is you—"

"I don't really care what Sam thinks," Jason stated, honestly. "I care what you think."

Robin hid a smile behind her hand while Elizabeth went still, her arms dropping to her side like a puppet whose strings had been cut. "She is your wife, Jason," Elizabeth whispered, with a shake of her head. "Shouldn't you be more concerned about her?"

Jason glanced over at Robin, and then back at Elizabeth. "The only woman I can ever imaging spending the rest of my life with is you, Elizabeth," Jason responded, his voice soft in a way that was reserved solely for the petite brunette in front of him. He could see the words shatter something in her, and the way she curled in on herself as if to protect herself from his words like they were weapons. His anger towards Helena and everyone who had a hand in his disappearance increased tenfold. He had gotten the cliff notes version of what had happened over the last few years from Robin, and he knows that there is so much he had to fix, especially with Elizabeth. "Elizabeth, Sam isn't my wife."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Yes, she is. She is, and I—is this some kind memory loss?" She asked Robin, taking another step back with her arms wrapped around her midsection. Her knees knocked together and it seemed like a good wind would blow her over.

"No, it isn't," Robin replied. "Just—just listen to him, Elizabeth. There is more to this than you can imagine. It is a tangled web, and it is a long explanation, so you need to listen. Please."

"I—" Elizabeth hesitated, sending him a wounded look.

His gaze drilled into her. "Elizabeth, that marriage happened in 2011."

"I am aware," she said, tonelessly.

"I was kidnapped by Helena in 2009."

"Wh—what?" Elizabeth gasped, staggering back. "I don't—"

"_I_ never got back together with Sam. _I _never married Sam. I would never let her near my life after everything she had put you and the boys through," Jason told her, speaking around the clog in his throat. He wanted to reach out to her and erase the pain that was written her eyes. "The only woman that I am in love with you."

Tears fell freely down her cheeks and her chest shuddered. "I—I—can't—I don't know—" Elizabeth choked out, unable to breath. Her eyes rolled into the back of her skull, and her knees folded like wet paper. Jason like a flash of lightning was by her side and picked her up bridal style before she could hit the ground.

Robin watched it all with a wince. "Maybe we should have…eased her into things a little bit more gently."

Jason let out a muted sigh.

* * *

In one of the empty consultation rooms, Monica Quartermain, Tracy Quartermain and Epiphany Johnson were set around the table. Papers and rolls of ticket set out along the table, and Monica sat at the head of the table with her elbows braced on the edge. "All right now, the three of us are here to plan the Nutcracker Gala—" Monica started, clicking the end of her pen and poised over the clipboard.

"Wait a minute, I remember agreeing to consider that name—I don't remember approving it," Tracy interrupted, with a gimlet-eyed stare.

Monica bit back a smirk and arched a brow. "Oh, well, the tickets are already being printed, so there's no turning back on that one," she replied, in a sickly, sweet tone that made Tracy's nostrils flare dangerously. "And speaking of tickets, I'm a little worried that we're not going to sell out. So I believe that we offer some to the hospital staff at a discount; the more seniority, the more generous the discount."

"We could hire some of our candy stripers to sell some to patients or go to locations like Kelly's or the Floating Rib," Epiphany suggested, with a thoughtful look. "There is room in the budget, so our new Chief of Staff should have no trouble getting it done."

"That is a good option," Monica said, with a nod of approval.

"Speaking of candy stripers, why don't we send an offer through Maxie Jones to Nina Reeves? She is the editor-in-chief at Crimson. We can give them free access if they promote the…Nutcracker Gala," Tracy commented, her nose wrinkled at the name, "in the magazine and online, which should not only boost up ticket sales locally but even secure an outside interest in our charity event. Now onto the more important thing to decide on—who's going to make the keynote speech? The Governor's a blowhard. The Mayor is incompetent. People will stay away in droves, and I would be right alongside of them."

"If you are looking for some influential, who better than the hospital's Chief of Staff?"

A voice from the doorway made all three of the women's head swivel, and there stood Dr. Obretcht with a smug smirk stretched upon her features. "After all, it is important the staff be present to support the gala. It would set a bad precedence otherwise."

"We want someone influential, not certifiable," Tracy stated, her eyes glared daggers at Obretcht. "And if you think for a second that you are doing the keynote speech, especially after the debacle you pulled at the Nurses Ball then you have lost your damned mind."

"You can't lose what you didn't have," Epiphany said, flippantly.

"What was that Nurse Johnson?" Dr. Obretcht asked, eyes narrowed.

Epiphany stared at her, flatly. "I didn't stutter."

"Keep up the sass, Nurse Johnson, and you will find yourself with so much overtime I fear that you will not have any extra time for yourself let alone the Nutcracker Gala," the Chief of Staff responded, with an icy undertone to her voice.

"It don't hurt my feelings," Epiphany said, with a saccharine smile. "It doesn't hurt my bank account, either."

Tracy snorted, in amusement.

Monica sighed. "Alright, we have gotten very much off the topic. I will contact a few people to find a suitable candidate to give the keynote address, and when I find some suitable people then I will let the two of you know. I have to go contact Ava Jerome on the art for the silent auction that would be wonderful."

"Why on earth would you have anything to do with that woman?" Tracy bemoaned.

"I think I mentioned earlier I will do a hell of a lot for a worthy cause," Monica replied, evenly. It was clear that the meeting was over so all of them stood up from the table. Epiphany passed Obretcht, giving her the side eye while Tracy marched out of the door not sparing the woman a single glance.

"I am the Chief of Staff at this hospital," Dr. Obretcht stated, aggravated. "Do I not to get a single input into this charity event?"

Monica put all her papers and tickets into her bag and slung it over her shoulder before she dignified the other woman with a response. "The hospital board left the planning of this fundraiser to me, Dr. Obretcht. If you have a problem with it then take it up with them."

* * *

The penthouse was cold and quiet. Most of the furniture had been sold or put into storage over a year ago, and Sam didn't quite feel all that comfortable staying here tonight. To be perfectly honest, Sam never felt comfortable in the penthouse. Not after the night that Jason and Elizabeth…it was a bitter pill that she couldn't stand to swallow even to this day. That Elizabeth got the child that should have been rightfully hers, and the fact that she would never be able to have children at all only made the wound fester inside of her. It had been a relief when Jake had died, though she had never said that out loud. She no longer had to cross paths with the child, Jason's son and be reminded of all the things that had gone wrong.

But now the prodigal son returned, Sam thought with a light scoff. And not only did Elizabeth has her child, the bitch had set her sights on Jason, too. She was drawn out of her thoughts when Alexis returned from the kitchen with two cups of tea in her hands, and she passed one over to Sam before setting on the couch beside her. "Thank you. I'm glad you come over and talk to me," Sam said, with a shrug of her shoulder. "It has been a—it has been a really tough day."

"I'm always here for you. So, tell me what is the matter? Did you reconsider moving forward with the divorce?" Alexis asked, in a gentle tone.

"No. I mean, that isn't exactly what I wanted to talk about. Patrick and I…we broke up," she said, with a heavy sigh.

"Oh, sweetie," Alexis replied, "I am so sorry."

Sam sipped on the tea gingerly, and then rolled her neck to the side until it gave a satisfying crack, and then settled back against the couch more comfortably. "To be perfectly honest, I think we were doomed for a while now. I did love him, mom," Sam told her, all teary eyed. She sniffled, reaching up to swipe the tear that rolled down her cheek. "And I loved being a mom to Emma, but it felt like we were all playing pretend. Then when Jason came back, it was like walking on eggshells and both of us were trying too hard to prove our love to each other even as we were drifting apart. The break-up is the best thing for both of us."

"That's very mature of you," Alexis said, with a small nod.

Sam didn't mention that technically Patrick broke up with her. Her pride was still sore, and she couldn't believe that he had done it. "But I do want to go through with the divorce," she said, very firmly.

"You do?" Alexis asked, surprised.

"I believe it is the best choice. I don't want Jason to feel pressured to be with me out of obligation," Sam replied, with a nonchalant tone. If it was one thing that Patrick was right about was that part of her wanted Jason to come back to her, but she wanted him to make that choice—she didn't want him to do it out guilt. She was confident that Jason would make the right choice and proving what a liar that Elizabeth was would make that decision all that much easier. Going through with the divorce would prove that she was willingly to let him make his own choices and accept him completely whereas Elizabeth never could. "I found out something about Elizabeth, something that will make Jason want nothing to do with her, and I want to have the divorce cleared, so I am not tempted to use it."

"I was unaware that Elizabeth and Jason were romantically involved." A shadow of worry passed over Alexis' features, and there was a slight pause before she dared to speak. "What have you found about Elizabeth that you think that will make Jason turn his back on her?"

"They aren't together," Sam replied, a pinched look on her face. "But they will be soon enough, if Elizabeth has her way. She was in on the scheme to keep Jason hidden, and that whole Nikolas threatening her was just an attempt to save herself from going down with the ship."

Alexis hummed, tapping her fingers on the cup held in between her hands. "Wow. That is quite…wow."

"Yeah, I know," Sam huffed.

"Are you sure that she is lying about this?" Alexis asked, a little hesitantly.

Sam nodded, decisively. "I am sure about this, mom. I know how Elizabeth operates, and this opportunity with Jason—it was just too much for her to pass up," she stated, a flash of bitterness and anger crossed her eyes. "I am convinced that Elizabeth has been lying to Jason, and how can I stand by and watch her trap him? I might not be Jason's wife anymore after the divorce is all said and done, but he was an important part of my life. He always will be."

"This really matters to you, doesn't it?" Alexis commented, with a frown.

"It does. It really does. Ever since I overheard Jake confide in Alice about the secret that Laura and Elizabeth were keeping, I have been putting the pieces of the puzzle together and finding answers ahead of everything else, including Patrick and Emma. And when he called me out on it, I—I could see what he meant," Sam responded, leaning forward to set her cup on the coffee table. She threaded her fingers through her hair and looked over at her mother with dejectedly. "I don't think I am going to be able to fully move on to whatever comes next in my life, until I can see this through."

Alexis eyed her with a thoughtful glance and exhaled quietly. "You know I worry about you, right? I worry about you constantly. I know that Jason was a big part of your life—_too_ much, in my eyes but I did my best to respect that after you two got married. I just want you to give a little bit of your life to yourself, and not fall back into old patterns," she stated, her tone conveyed her concern without a hint of judgment.

Sam puffed out her chest, a flicker of annoyance. "Mom, I know what I am doing."

"Alright. Alright, I'll trust you on that." Alexis lifted a finger a pointed at her daughter, with her head tilted to the side curiously. "I just have one question, if you'll indulge me a moment longer. When Jason finds out what Elizabeth did, are you sure that you aren't hoping that things will change between you and him? That you'll grow closer in the aftermath?"

Sam felt her muscles bunched when she met her mother's inquisitive gaze. "You think I'm hoping that Jason will come back to me. Aren't you? Mom, this—this Jason is different. He's my friend, not my husband. He is not my Jason."

The more she thought about it, the more her resolve hardened. She would have broken up with Patrick and was a bit stung that things didn't end on her terms, but she didn't have to feel guilty about getting back with Jason when everything was right. He had no memory of his past, and he didn't want to be a part of the mob. Carly and Sonny would be too stubborn to keep out of his life, so she would have to accept some level of interference on their part, but she could make sure Jason would put her first before anyone else. And who knows, after what Elizabeth did, maybe Jason wouldn't want Jake around her anymore.

Sam could convince him to get full custody and then their family would be complete. The life that they had always wanted would be theirs, and nothing could steal it away from them. But Sam had to play this smart, because she wasn't the only player in the game.

"Honey, you can't get back the time that you lost. And even if Jason remembers, you can't un-live this entire year just like you can't erase what happened between you and Patrick," Alexis responded, quietly. "I just don't want you to rush into something with half of the answers, because if you aren't careful, you may end up with no one at all."

Sam stood up off the couch, unable to sit still any longer. She folded her arms over her chest and made her way to the mantle where the pictures of her and Jason's life used to sit. It was empty and bare, which made her heart jump uneasily in her throat. It reminded her of the fights and bad days shortly before Jason was shot and kicked off into the harbor. She had lost too much time with Jason, lost too many moments, and she wasn't about to let the likes of Elizabeth Webber stand in her way.

"It's not right for Elizabeth to get away with this," Sam said, with renewed conviction.

"No, it's not. But Elizabeth isn't my daughter. You are. So, I need to ask you—do you want to punish Elizabeth because she is truly guilty of lying? Or do you want to punish her because she is closer to Jason right now than you are?" Alexis asked.

Sam gnawed on her lower lip and turned around with fierce eyes. "I want to say no."

"But?" Alexis prodded.

"But I'll never be objective where Elizabeth is concerned. She is a big part of the problems Jason and I had over the years. I can't help, but to look at her, and _hate_," Sam replied, more honest than she had been for the entire conversation. She hated Elizabeth. She would always hate her. The goody goody nurse was a thorn in her side and always would be. "But I know what the right thing is to do."

Alexis didn't look convinced but allowed the matter to rest. "If you are sure."

"I am, mom," Sam said, with a sharp nod. "I am more sure about this than I have been about anything else in my entire life."

She had once warned Elizabeth that all her lies and manipulations would send her world crashing down around her, and as Sam toyed with the star necklace that hung around her throat, she thought it was about time to make good on that promise.

* * *

It was like Elizabeth was caught in a fog, and numbness spread through, causing goosebumps to spread across her flesh. She sat in an undignified slump on a chair that felt like it was made from heaven, with a listless gaze flickered around the unfinished living room. There were sheets covering the furniture, and a few decorations here and there. Someone had tried to make this place a home, but by the cobwebs and dust, it had all come to an abrupt halt. A glass of water was pressed into the palm of her hand, and she startled, nearly jumping out of her skin.

"Hey, hey," a voice said to her, while a hand rested on her shoulder, "it's okay."

Elizabeth looked up at—at Jason, and her heart swelled in her chest. It was Jason, but from the before the accident. The sharp cheekbones and angular jaw, and those piercing blue eyes that read her so well. She could never hide from those eyes, and it wasn't just his appearance that rattled her to the core. It was that spark, that rippled through her soul—that connection, that missing pull that she hadn't felt in so long, and she lowered her gaze to the floor because it hurt just too much to look at him any longer.

"Thank you," she rasped out, her fingers curled around the glass of water.

Her fingertips brushed against his, and she felt a current shoot up her arm. A kaleidoscope of butterflies danced around her stomach, and she pulled her hand back quickly causing the water to slosh over the rim of the glass. A hiss slipped through her lips and she dabbed up the water with the edge of her sleeve, since she didn't have a better option. The urge to fall apart into a mindless panic gnawed at her insides, and she took a sip of the water while trying to put all her emotions into a box to be locked up tight.

The silence around them was just too loud.

Elizabeth cleared her throat, placing the glass on the end table. "Do—do you mind telling what is all going on? How any of this is possible? And what you—what did you mean that you were taken in 2009?" She asked, her mouth twisted into a deep frown. She curled her shaking fingers around the end of the armrest to anchor herself.

Robin gave a shrug of her shoulder, leaning against the nearby wall. "It is your story," Robin said. "It makes sense for you to be the one to tell it. I'll just fill in the blanks along the way?"

Jason nodded, running his palm down his face. He knelt in front of where Elizabeth sat, his eyes trained on her like she would disappear if he so much as blinked. It was that intense stare, like she was the most important thing in the room—in the world and she could see how much he desperately wanted her to hear him out. It was a look that cut through her like a razor and made her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

"Do—do you remind after Michael woke up from his coma? He was hot-headed and lashing out at everywhere, and he ran off with Kristina down to Mexico. I went after them because I didn't trust Sonny or Carly to. Sam followed even though I didn't want her to," he said, his muscles bunched up and irritation darted through his eyes. A frown pulled at the corner of his mouth and he ran his palm down the back of his neck restlessly. "There was an accident. I was scouted some abandoned houses that Spinelli had gotten a hit off Kristina's cellphone, and it collapsed in on me—I got hit in the head and I remember Sam leaving to get help. Next thing I knew…I woke up, and in this clinic and at first, I had assumed that I was just in the closest hospital.

"But then they wouldn't let me leave. I got into a fight with security, and tried to break out a few times, and then…then they kept me drugged up. I didn't even know what day it was or how much time had passed," Jason recalled, his voice light. He ran his tongue across his teeth and a shadow of pain crossed his features. "I vaguely recall the faces of the doctors, blinding lights and needles…it was disconcerting. The only thing that I could hold to those days were thoughts and dreams about you and the boys. It was my anchor when everything else didn't make an ounce of sense."

A fresh ache spread through her heart. There a slight tremble that ran through from his head to toe, and she could hear the raw pain in his voice. It was gut-wrenching to see such uncertainty and pain on his face, and she sat up in the chair with the need to get up and go to him. She stopped herself, swaying slightly and an invisible fist squeezed tight around her throat. "Oh, God," Elizabeth breathed out. "This feels like some kind of weird fever dream."

"It's not a dream, Elizabeth," Robin promised, her eyes wet with tears. "I know this is a lot to take in, but everything about it is true."

Elizabeth pressed her palms against her throbbing temples. "The man—the man in Port Charles—who is…who is he?" she stuttered, trying to sort out her thoughts and emotions. It was like being trapped inside a rollercoaster that kept getting faster and faster, and she felt her stomach roll uneasily. "Who is he? Why does he think he is Jason?"

"His name is Drew Cain," Robin answered, bounced away from the wall. She walked over and slowly dropped into the empty seat beside Elizabeth. She folded her hands into the pocket of her hoodie, looking so tired and weak. "He is Jason's twin brother."

"What?" Elizabeth asked, eyes wide. "Are you serious?"

"Heather Webber was the only one in the delivery room with Susan Moore when I was born. She had connections to seedy lawyers, and Susan didn't know she was carrying twins. Heather saw a way to get some quick cash," Jason responded, a peculiar expression on his face. She wondered if he was thinking about Susan Moore; she was his birth mother, and no one spoke of her like a bad memory. "It wouldn't have been the first time that she tried to sell a baby for money."

The burn of tears alarmed her, sudden and abrupt. It was getting so hard to hold back everything when all that she knew for the last few years came into question, and it felt like the world fell out from underneath her feet. And if this was what she was feeling, it was only a fraction what Jason and even Robin must be feeling.

Jason took her hand in his, and her fingers jerked in surprise by touch. She lifted her gaze to meet his hesitantly and felt a couple of tears slip down her cheeks.

"This is insane," Elizabeth whispered.

Robin snorted softly. "Port Charles seems to draw in the worst of the crazies."

Elizabeth swallowed, thickly. "So…not only was Helena a part of this, and Faison—he confessed to shooting Jason and…kicking him into the harbor." The pad of Jason's thumb rubbed soothing circles on her knuckles. His touch anchoring her, so she didn't fall to pieces. "And Nikolas who took over Helena's operation, now we have Heather Webber added to the mix. Did they start a club or something for the demented and the deranged?"

A watery laugh erupted from Robin. "Something like that."

Goosebumps rippled across her skin, a sickly and sticky formed in the pit of her belly. "Do—does Nikolas know that Drew isn't Jason? Did—did he pull another fast one on everyone?" asked Elizabeth, heart pumping fast in her chest.

"Nikolas doesn't know that the person who everyone thinks is me is actually my twin brother," Jason replied. "He truly believes he is me."

"How does he not know? I thought he oversaw all of this!" Elizabeth said, loudly.

"Helena. It was Helena who kept him in the dark. You know how the woman loves to monologue? In my captivity, Helena often liked to come to the lab to monologue all the time. In her condition, I think it was the only joy she got because Nikolas made sure she couldn't go anywhere or do anything," Robin commented, with a shake of her head. She pressed her lips together into a fine line and then blew out a hard breath before she continued her story. "She wasn't happy with Nikolas. Him taking ELQ was never part of Helena's plan.

"ELQ isn't what it once was. I'm not a stock market expert or business savvy, but I know a sinking ship when I see it. Helena saw it, too." Robin's right leg bounced up and down, nervously. "Nikolas was apparently too greedy for his own good. He didn't see what he stood to lose by taking over ELQ, and then putting all his money into rebuilding it. It was a waste of the Cassidine fortune, according to Helena."

"So, she gets back at Nikolas for not following her orders, by not filling him on everything that was going on. She knew that Nikolas' carefully laid plans would blow up in his face if Jason ever came home," Elizabeth said, her voice faint to her own ears. The room seemed to spin, and her vision went blurry. "Nikolas told me—Nikolas told me at the Nurses Ball that he was Jason. He told me seven months ago that he was Jason, and I—I kept it a secret."

Jason cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"Nikolas threatened my kids. He said accidents happen, just like the accident that happened to Jake—" Her voice shattered with a sob, and pain radiated through her that she couldn't choke back.

"Accident? What accident happened to Jake?" Jason asked.

Elizabeth stilled, and her eyes grew wide with horror. "Oh, no…oh, no. You…if you were taken in 2009 then you weren't there…it wasn't you the night that Jake—oh, my God!"

Jason pulled her out of the chair. Her enfolded her in his arms, holding her tight against his chest, and she pressed her face into his shoulder, sobbing heavily. The weight—that bitter and heavy weight she had been carrying for years, it finally felt like she could put it down. Jason was always her safe harbor, and she forgot how it felt like home in his arms. So much grief and pain that she had held back for years came bubbling to the surface, and she just broke down and allowed herself to cry.

Jason rubbed Elizabeth's back, trying to console her through her tears. His blue gaze flickered over her shoulder to Robin, who was standing there with a pale stricken look on her face. "What happened?" he demanded, darkly.

* * *

Nina Reeves did not excel at patience. Her therapist said that it was anxiety stemming from the fact that she had lost twenty years of her life to a coma, and now she felt the need to make up for all that lost even though realistically she never could. It didn't help that Franco who was her—friend? Something more?—was late once again to meet her. She sucked in a deep breath, glaring at the text message before she shoved the phone back into the phone. Her eyes flickered around the small café and there was most definitely a pout on her face.

"Now what is a pretty lady like you looking so down?"

Nina lifted her glum gaze, and felt her heart thumped against her ribs.

In front of her was probably one of the finest specimen of masculinity that she had ever seen in her entire life, and she could feel the blush burn white hot on her cheeks. Even with a thick wool coat on, she could see the hint of his well-muscled body and the way he looked in those blue jeans sent made her libido sound off like a foghorn. His dark skin, his sharp jawline, that devilish twinkle in those amber eyes—he was handsome and magnificent, like he just walked off the front of a romance novel.

"Uh, hi? Hello?" She said, dumbly.

"Hello," he replied, with a chuckle.

Oh, his voice made her insides flipflop and her toes curl into her shoes. If her face wasn't as red as her hair before, it most definitely was now. She knew she had to be better at socializing and human interaction, especially given her new job. But a part of her was that same awkward and gangly girl that no one noticed underneath all the expensive clothes and finely done makeup. The only man that had noticed was Silas, and that—well, she didn't want to think about all of that. She felt so woefully unprepared to talk to a man like this, one so clearly out of her league.

"I'm Ni—Nina Reeves," she introduced herself, with a bright smile.

"I'm Curtis," he responded. "Do you mind…" he gestured to the chair across from her.

"Oh, no! Not at all!" Nina chirped, with a tiny and nervous giggle. "Please take a seat."

The waitress walked over with a cup and filled it up with coffee, after Curtis had made himself comfortable. The man thanked the waitress while Nina covertly admired him, and then found her lap interesting when Curtis caught her gaze. She bit her lower lip, fiddling the edge of the napkin that sat underneath her teacup.

"So…what are you doing sitting all by your lonesome?" Curtis asked, curiously.

Nina sighed, heavily. "I was supposed to be meeting a friend, but he…caught up with his work, I guess."

"A friend? Or a boyfriend?"

That had been a dilemma that she had been pondering only moments before he showed up. Franco had been a person who had been there for her since she first woke up out of her coma. He had been good to her, but there were times…there were times that he had an edge to him. Like something broken and twisted, and if she were completely honest it was one of the factors to why she hesitated to call him more than a friend.

"Just a friend," Nina replied, decisively.

"That's good to know," Curtis commented, sipping on his coffee.

She arched a brow, her eyes flickered over him. "Good to know?"

"Mhmm."

The blush felt tattoo on her cheeks, and she didn't think it would go away any time soon. She resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands, and she picked up her fork to move her vegetables around her plate to distract her from his stare. _He really has beautiful eyes, _she thought to herself, and then the business part of her mind kicked into gear. Her gaze swept up away from her food to openly ogle him, and she realized that Curtis was exactly what she imagined when she pitched the next featured article for the magazine.

"Do you mind if I ask you for a favor?" Nina asked, after a moment.

Curtis appeared a little intrigued, a sly curl of his lips and his eyes intently fixated on her. "You can ask me for anything," he said, his voice dipping an octave.

A pleasant shive rolled down her spine that she did her best to hide. "I was hoping to take you picture. I'm the editor-in-chief of Crimson…"

"Ah, the fashion magazine!" Curtis's eyes lit up with recognition at the name. He set his coffee cup down with a clink and grabbed a package of sugar from the center of the table. He tore the package open and poured the contents into his cup, and he stirred it carefully with a straw. "That explains why you are the best dressed lady in this whole café."

Nina smiled, a bit bashfully. "Well, that's thanks to my assistant, Maxie Jones. If it wasn't for her, I don't think I would be, uh, able to be so put together. But my fashion choices are not what I wanted to talk about. You see, we are doing a fashion layout with real men posed with, you know, models. Sort of a contrast between…uh, the fantasy of fashion and the gritty realism."

"You think I'm gritty and real?" Curtis arched a brow.

"Yes, but in the best possible way. You're attractive in an authentic, genuine kind of way," Nina responded, hurriedly. She didn't want to offend him, because she did mean it as a genuinely good thing. "You don't have to rely on expensive clothes or accessories to kind of sell an imagine. You rely on your natural attributes."

"My natural attributes, hmm?" Curtis said.

"Uh, yeah. You know what I am talking about."

Curtis cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowed in mocked confusion. "No, I'm not sure I do."

A trickle of laughter escaped her. "You are teasing me."

"Maybe a little bit," Curtis admitted, with a mild shrug of his shoulder. "Is this where I get to repay the favor? Tell you what natural and beautiful attributes that you have?"

She found herself rendered speechless. It took her a moment to comprehend what he said, and she didn't know what to do or say next. When they were dating, Silas always told her how pretty she was or how smart she was. He had never called her anything like beautiful. No one had ever called her beautiful and this man…this stranger called her beautiful. And what was more, he genuinely meant it.

"Well, why don't you hold onto that thought," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. "And uh, tell me it when you come in for your photo shoot?"

His face broke out in the most charming smile. "Sound goods to me. Do you have a card?"

"A card? Yes, I have card! My assistant printed them out!" Nina scrambled to get her purse open and shifted through the contents to find the stack of business cards. She passed it over to him with a beaming smile. "Uh, can I have your card? Just in case you—you lose mine?"

"Oh, there's no chance of that. I intend to keep a tight hold on this card."

Nina opened her mouth until a shadow fell over the table, and she looked over her shoulder to see Franco looming there. She couldn't explain the way her stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thunderous look on his face, and the cold, empty feeling that replaced it when Franco put on an easy going smile in the blink of an eye. The air in the café seemed to pull taut and become stifled in a way that made it very hard to breath.

"Is this a private party?" Franco asked with a forced, cheerful tone.

There was a prickle of unease that ran across her scalp, and she fidgeted nervously in her seat, wiping her sweaty palms across her skirt discreetly. She jumped when she felt Franco place on his hand on his shoulder. "No, no. Um…I thought you were running?" she asked, quietly.

"Yeah, I had an errand to run," Franco stated, eyeballing Curtis the entire time. "But I am here now."

Nina bit the inside of her cheek and drummed her fingers against her thigh. "Uh, Curtis, this the friend I told you about. Franco, this is Curtis," she introduced, hoping to ease the tension that was so thick that it could be cut with a dull spoon. "He is going to do a photo shoot."

Franco's smile became strained. "I think Curt's probably busy that day."

Curtis drained the last bit of coffee out of his cup, slowly and without hurry. He levelled a look at Franco, and his left eyebrow rose while an almost taunting smirk played at the corners of his mouth. He stood up out of the chair and fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He threw down a ten on the table, and his eyes softened when his gaze swept to Nina. "Who knows? There might be an opening if the timing is right. It was a pleasure to meet you, Nina," Curtis told her, with a wink.

"Oh, the plea—pleasure was all mine." Her heart pulse staccato at the base of her throat. Her eyes fluttered downward, and she felt warm roll over her skin, sweet like honey. "Call me if you get the time then."

Curtis nodded. He walked away without sparring Franco a spare glance, and as soon as soon as he was out the door and out of sight, Franco dropped his smile. He sat down in the seat that Curtis had vacated and braced his arms on the table with a look of frustration on his face. "Okay. What _was_ that about?" he demanded.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Nina. You do know that he was hitting on you, right? And why did you introduce me as your friend?" Franco asked, mulishly.

The waitress came over with the check and she paid for her food, putting the leftover in a plastic container. She slung her purse of her shoulder and walked out of the café with Franco hot on her heels. "He wasn't hitting on me," Nina denied, flustered. "And you are my friend? How else I am supposed to introduce you?"

"I kind of thought that we were more than friends."

She came to an abrupt halt and whirled around on him. A hot blast of annoyance hit her square in the chest, and the plastic container crunched underneath the force of her hands. "Let me be very clear that I appreciate you. I appreciate you helping through difficult time in my life, but we are just friends," she told him, frankly.

Franco looked hurt. "Nina, do you know what you mean to me? You've given me a whole new life, a purpose, a reason that good things can actually happen to someone in this lifetime."

Nina shook her head side to side. "I don't think that—that we can be like that. I am barely getting my own life together, and I can't carry the weight of being what you need. I can't give you anything—I can't give you commitment or a relationship, not until your divorce over—signed, sealed and delivered kind of over. I am not about to be your mistress—"

"Carly doesn't even like me!" Franco shouted. "She won't care!"

"I care! I _care_, Franco! I married the man who I thought was the love of my life, alright? I threw myself headfirst into that relationship and I went on with these blinders, and you know what it got me? An unfaithful husband, a miscarriage, and twenty years of my life lost to a coma," Nina yelled, unable to keep her temper in check. It had been there like an undercurrent, like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off and it was his disregard to her feelings in this that lit the match. "I won't become someone's mistress, no matter apathetic your wife is to you or how close to your marriage is over. I will not allow myself to become even a smidge like Ava Jerome."

"Come don't be that way."

"What way? The way where I'm not letting you get _your _way?" Nina gave him a frigid look, with her jaw clenched tight. "We could have been together, already dating and I could proudly proclaim that you are my boyfriend to the world. Instead, you are dragging your feet on your divorce for some reason and I—I can't put my life on hold for you to figure things out. I have lost _twenty years_—twenty years that I could have lived and experienced the world and made friends and had a family, and I won't waste what time I have left on someone who is indecisive. Until you figure out what you want, don't come see me."

With all righteous fury, Nina marched with her head held high despite the tears that clung to her lashes. She felt like she had just lost her only friend, but she was done living for other people. She had done that for Silas, for her mother, and it had nearly destroyed her beyond all repair. She was taking her life and she would live by her rules.

* * *

The cool brisk wind fluttered through the garden, where Elizabeth stood surrounded by the winter-flowering plants that consisted of pansies, sweet alyssum, and honey wort. Her blue eyes aimlessly shifted across the many plants with her arms encircled around her waist tightly, and she was lost in the solitude of her thoughts while Jason and Robin stood on the outskirts of the garden.

Jason had never felt so helpless, filled with agony and grief. He had to hold back his own emotions while Elizabeth told him through tears what had happened. She explained how Jake had somehow gotten outside, and he had been hit by a car. That at the hospital that the doctors had declared him brain dead, and how Lucky had been vicious in blaming her for Jake's accident. That how an hour after the diagnosis that the man who ever believed to be him, had walked up to her and asked for her to donate Jake's kidneys to save Jocelyn Jax.

That kind of loss created a void—an emptiness that seemed to make the world seem darker and colder. It was this everlasting wound that just festered and would never stop aching; a wound that Elizabeth had to carry with her for four years, until Luke Spencer by luck found Jake hidden away at Cassidine Island. Helena had staged his death and kidnapped like she had Lucky all those years ago. Jason shuddered to think what Helena would have twisted his son into.

It was a bitter feeling that wrapped around his throat, choking him without mercy. The fact that he hadn't been there—that he couldn't help the love of his life and his family through one of the worst moments they'd ever faced made him utterly useless.

"It shouldn't have happened."

"I know," Robin said, sympathetically.

"I don't—I don't know how to fix this, Robin," Jason admitted, quietly. "I wasn't there. I couldn't stop them. My family has been through so much, _too _much and I couldn't protect them. I should have done better. I used the danger to push Elizabeth away, and look where it has brought us? This is all my fault."

"This isn't your fault. It isn't," she told him, giving him a hard, quelling look when he opened his mouth. "Helena is the one who started all of this. There were others who got involved, and it snowballed, and it hurt so many people. It will hurt even more before it is all sorted out. But do not blame yourself for this."

"How can I not when I see the people I love hurting so much?" Jason questioned, with his face twisted in pain.

Robin sighed, sadly. "We can't change what happened, but we have _now. _We have today, we have this moment to make things right. I know what you are going through…when I think about Patrick and Emma, and everything that I to try and make up for, it seems impossible. But that is what love is, Jason," she told him, with a small smile. "Love is making the impossible possible."

His expression softened and he smiled. "I suppose that is a nice way to think about it."

"I am sorry, though."

"For what?" he asked, confused.

"I should have taken the time to tell you everything that has happened after you were kidnapped, not just a cliff notes version of things. I should have prepared you for what you were coming home to face, so these conversations you and Elizabeth would have wouldn't be so painful. I just got so focused on us getting home, and safe, and it's so easy to forget that it wasn't you all that time, it was your twin—"

"Robin, breath," Jason said.

Robin sucked in a deep breath. "I am sorry."

"You have nothing to apology for. This isn't your fault, either," Jason replied, seriously. His eyes fell to her sleeve that had slid up, revealing scars from the torture she endured for fighting back against Helena. The sight of the scars made his stomach jolt unpleasantly. "We have both been through a lot, and we've both been trying to get better while escaping and making sure we weren't followed. We didn't have time to recap all the years."

"Jake is your son," Robin said, sadly. "I should have—"

"Robin, like you said…it is easy to forget that he wasn't me. It's an adjustment that everyone will have to deal with. There are going to be slip ups, and I know about what happened now," Jason said, cutting into her self-imposed guilt. "It makes me angry that Elizabeth went through that, that Cameron lost his brother and Jake going through God knows what…but none of that is your fault, so don't blame yourself please."

Robin worked her jaw up and down, then nodded. "You…you need to go talk to her. Elizabeth…this won't be easy for her after everything that has happened," she said, with a mild tone.

"Yeah, I know. There is just so much to say," Jason whispered.

"Just…" Her dark eyes flickered away. "Just speak from the heart, honestly and without hesitance. That is how I would want Patrick to speak to me."

Jason inclined his head, taking her advice into consideration. She patted his arm before she ambled up towards the house, to give him and Elizabeth some much needed privacy. He drew in a deep and steady breath, then squared up his shoulders and walked into the garden. Elizabeth swung towards him at his approach, and she tried to muster up a smile despite the tears that still clung to her red rimmed eyes. It made her all that more beautiful, how she was so strong and fought to smile through her pain.

"How—how are you feeling?" Jason asked.

Her lips folded together, and she breathed out slowly. "I'm not sure there is a word good enough to explain what I am feeling right now. I—I'm sorry about dropping so much on you, about what happened with Jake and—"

"Elizabeth, I _wanted_ to know."

"I just…you are going through a lot, and I don't want to add more stress, or make things more difficult for you," she replied, with a hesitant look in her eyes. She looked at him like he was a ghost, or a mirage, and then after minutes passed an awe crept into her eyes like she was astounded that he didn't disappear.

Jason peered at her, a furrow in the center of his brow. "You and the boys—you are my life. It doesn't matter what I am going through, I will always want to know how you are doing and what is going on, or how I can be there for you. I am just sorry that you had to go through that on your own."

"You would have been there, if you could have," Elizabeth said, softly. "I know that now, and that…that helps more than you know."

Emotions strangled him until his throat was as small as straw. His fingers twitched to pull her close, so he shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn't want to push, especially when she seemed so fragile right this moment. "Ho—how is Jake doing now? And Cameron?" he asked, quietly.

"Jake…Jake is doing good. He is in therapy to learn how to socialize and learning to deal with PTSD. He hasn't opened up completely on what happened to him on the island, but he has really started to feel at home, now that he knows that it isn't going to be taken away. He loves to draw and play video games. Cameron is just so good with Jake, he is patient and so happy to have his brother back," Elizabeth responded, her eyes shining brightly. "He also is the star player on his soccer team and has a talent for writing stories."

"They are good kids," Jason said, with a soft smile.

"Yeah, they are." Elizabeth nodded. "I have a daughter, too."

Jason felt his heart pitch forward in his chest. "Y—you do?"

"I, uh, adopted her back in 2010. I had never imagined that I would ever adopt, but then this opportunity came by…the first time I held her in my arms and it just felt right," she explained, her expression soft with adoration. "I named her Emily. Emily Ann Webber."

"I can't think of a more perfect name," he said, honestly.

He had always believed that a person could choose their family, that blood wasn't the only thing that could bind a family together. He loved Cameron like he loved Jake, with all his heart. He knew he could love Elizabeth's little girl like a daughter, if he was given the chance. He only hoped that his chance to be with Elizabeth and her kids hadn't been completely ruined.

"This is so messed up," she said, with a watery laugh. She wiped away at her cheeks with her hands, and her bottom lip quivered before she inhaled sharply. "This is so messed up. It is so hard to see you here, to hear what you are saying, because as much as I want it to, it doesn't undo all the years that have gone by. It doesn't erase all the pain of having to let you to, and see you—_him_ with Sam, and to be made to feel like I never mattered to you."

"You've always mattered," Jason promised. "You always will."

Elizabeth closed her eyes, the column of her throat trembled. "You say that…you say it and I want to believe it more than anything. It is…it is going to take me a little bit to accept it. It isn't that I don't feel that you are being truthful," she whispered. "It is just difficult to untangle the memories. He _was_ you, he had _your_ face, and—"

"I'm not—" Jason held his hands like a white flag. "I'm not expecting everything to come easy or be perfect right away. I know that it is going to take work, and patience. I just…I just need to know that…that you'll bear with me through it all."

Her soulful gaze traced his face, and her expression softened. "Yes," she vowed, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I can do that. Just…just promise that you won't walk again. If you are going to be here, then be here."

In an instant, the fear that he had carried with him ever since he had been freed disappeared, lifted by her words alone. "I promise that I won't walk away. The danger and the troubles, we will face those all of it together," he told her, his voice filled with conviction. "I should have trusted in us before, and not let fear drive me away…it has cost us so much—so much time, so much pain…"

"You are not the only one who bears guilt in that."

"Guilt? Why do you feel guilty?" Jason asked, confused.

She looked down at her hands, her fingers shaking still. "Because I think…I think a part of me knew it wasn't you all these years. There was just something off after you—_he _came back from Mexico, the magnetic pull that I always feel when you around…it was gone. I told myself the reason that I had no romantic feelings towards you—towards Drew," she corrected, with a heavy sigh and brushed her hair out of her face, "was because he went back to Sam. That I couldn't imagine myself with someone who could forgive a person like her, after everything she did to us.

"But there were other things, like the fragile friendship we continued to share or the way you would always send Spinelli to check in on me, or just the small ways that you would let me know you still cared even after we couldn't see each other anymore—all that stopped after you trip to Mexico. It was like our love didn't matter, or that we didn't have Jake," Elizabeth recounted, fighting to keep the quaver out of her voice. Her gaze darted all around the garden, distracted and jumpy like she was trying to find something to hold onto amid everything. "I told myself it was just that you needed to distance yourself to protect us, and then I justified it by fact that you went back to Sam, so you didn't want things to be awkward or uncomfortable. And I was too hurt to look closer—I should have looked closer!"

"Elizabeth, there is no way you could have known," he told her, hoping to ease her guilt.

"But I know you, Jason," Elizabeth said, devastated. Her eyes were swamped with sadness and regret, and she held herself arms so close to her chest like she was attempting to shield herself from the memories. "I know your heart…even if you didn't want to be with me, in some way you would have been there for Jake—"

"And Cameron, too," Jason added, with no hesitation.

"I just wish I hadn't accepted it all so easily. I wish I had put up more of a fight, then—I don't know, somehow found earlier it wasn't you."

"We can't…we can't do anything with the past, Elizabeth," Jason spoke, his tone gentle and earnest. He reached out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder, and steady her when she seemed to sway ever so slightly. "We have to leave that where it lies and focus on what we have right now. We are both here now, and we get decide what to do with that."

Her shoulders rose and fell with a great breath. Her eyes lifted to meet his gaze, and he felt longing punch him hard in the gut. She was always so beautiful to him, and he wished that things hadn't gotten so messed up. That he had gotten taken away for years, and for everything that had happened while he was gone…time and time again, it felt like impossible odds stood against them. He would do his best to make that history played out differently this go around.

"I love you…" he whispered.

Elizabeth looked at him, like he had just ripped her heart out.

"I've never stopped," he continued, cradling her face between his hands after he brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her soft skin seemed to burn underneath his touch, and he lowered his forehead until it rested against hers. Her eyes were the only thing he could see, and he could spend a lifetime lost in them. "I know that it will take time. I know it will, but I need to do something that I have been thinking about ever since you got here."

It was like lightning in a bottle, a moment froze in time and heat sparked in the space between them. Her scent, like snow and wind, wrapped around him and his heart rammed hard against his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed slowly, her black lashes like crescents against her cheeks and her hands grabbed on his arms to keep herself steady. His hand slid up the nape of her neck and tangled into her hair, just as he was ready to claim her lips—

The blaring noise of a cellphone startled them both, shattering the magic of the moment. Elizabeth wobbled back on her feet, out of his reach while Jason felt disappointment lodged tight in his throat. She stared at him with wide eyes, her face flushed red and she swallowed thickly. Her hands slapped at her purse, unsteadily before she retrieved the shrieking phone.

Jason watched her gaze dip to look at the caller ID.

"Oh, shit," she cursed, and answered it. "Hey, Aimee. Sorry, I lost track of time. I was about to head home—"

"_Uh, Elizabeth, there is something I need to tell you." _Aimee interrupted, quickly. There was a quaver like quality in her voice, like she was on the verge of tears. _"Someone tried to break into the house."_

* * *

**END OF THE CHAPTER!**

Author's Note: The first two chapters were basically a hard reset not only on 2015, but on Liason's relationship post the break-up. Jason and Elizabeth were twisted and regressed in order to go back to certain pairings, though Elizabeth I feel got demolished a lot more heavily than Jason did. In an interview (thanks to noscruples for reminding me), that Steve said that Jason wouldn't take Sam back. And in regards to 2015, there was an interview where Becky felt that the 2015 Lie was out of character. Now it isn't out of character for Liz to keep a lie, but usually there is a good reason behind it. Her 'happiness' over letting everyone know about Jason would not have been a reason that Liz would have kept the lie. So that's why I've kept canon a bit, but also twisted it to fit these two characters motives and identities. Liason isn't going to be happy right off the bat. There is still a lot to work through and a lot of storms on the horizon, but hopefully you all will enjoy the journey.

Author's Note 2: Storylines That I Fix—the 2015 Lie, obviously. Liason's History which is a given. The Stalker (2015-16). The fact they made Jake do that pissed me off and was little drama with no sustenance. The Nutcracker Gala which was only two days, and offered nothing more than to prop Jasam and drag Liz further and to be the start of Friz. Franco the Irredeemable will be a villain and unlikeable as he should be, not a romantic lead. The Black Market Organ Ring storyline that was dropped will be picked up. There are other storylines that will be picked up and fixed as well. Just to give you guys and idea of what may or may not happen. :D

Author's Note 3: Ideas I Dropped-Originally, Emily and Alan, as well as a few others were going to be brought back to life alongside of Jason. I tossed that idea out of the window. Having so many people constantly come back from the dead, I feel removes the emotional impact of their loss and removes the lessons that can be taught by death.

Reviews feed my soul!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own any character or history from General Hospital. That is the sole property of ABC. I am writing this because I love the history and stories for the most part, and to challenge myself as a writer in order to one day perhaps write original stories of my own.

Summary: (Set in 2015) When lies overshadow the truth, the world is a dark and unforgiving place. When the truth about Jason is revealed, it was supposed to be all over, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. Secrets and dangers stalk the streets of Port Charles, and no one is prepared for the fallout.

Pairings: Eventual Elizabeth/Jason

Aimee/Ross (Original Characters)

Robin/Patrick

*mentions of past relationships*

I want to thank, Bryantk82, Jmmartinez, ERCommandoTwilight, Twisted Musalih, trini12180, babeboo1968, RobJas, arcoiris0502, mif456, notenoughlove, killianariel18100, shermi for the favs.

I want to thank, Bryantk82, DisneyPrincess1986, Jmmartinez227129, kcke2pen, lsmalltown8, ERCommandoTwilight, Keoje3530, aphass, leeleelaya5, trini12180, ReedBrenda75, babeboo1968, Starbright62, Liasonfan50, RobJas, mif456, notenoughlove, shermi, Liason4420, Kimora J for the follows.

And I want to give a special thanks to, trini12180, DSKA5580, chicki'62, fundays, Liasonfan75, RobJas, kcke2pen, notenoughlove, arcoiris0502, shermi, Guest 1, Liason4220, for the reviews!

Guest Reviews:

Guest 1: Thank you so much. I had a bit of a head start to this story and was able to get some chapters out faster than normal. I am going to strive to keep that up. It would have been amazing for the writers to do this, promoting Liason and Dream. Instead, they gave it up all to pimp out Jasam once again. It was rather disappointing. (She does seem to not want to be there anymore. As soon as BM was announced to be leaving, she is pretty much just collecting a pay check.) I intend to touch upon her motivations and mistakes, especially her asking Jason to give up Jake. Nina and Curtis interaction actually happened on the show. The flirty dialogue, except Curtis kind of was ran off by Franco in the canon of the show. Yep, even Nina is seeing through his façade. I love Tracy in general and her sass. She is just a joy to write for. That is exactly Sam's mindset right now and it doesn't get much better. It is definitely a hint of things to come. Thank you again!

Chicki'62: Thank you for the review! I completely agree with you. You'll have to wait to see. Patrick has seen the light but he isn't out of the wood just yet. ;)

* * *

**Chapter Three**

—**chapter them song**—

—_"Some Nights" _**by fun**—

* * *

A pale blue gloom had fallen over the residential area after the sun had set behind the horizon. The sky was cast in grey, and the cloud churned uneasily overhead. It was early December and with the chill in the air, Aimee Lancaster was betting that they were going to have a nice blanket of snow on the ground come morning. She scanned the front yard unable to shake the unease that pressed down her shoulders, and she wrapped her arms lightly around herself. The kids were safely tucked away in bed, she had settled down with a glass of red wine and a romance novel on the couch when she was hit with a sudden burst of panic.

Aimee had issues with anxiety, so she had tried to brush off the feeling. It just wouldn't go away and she got up to check all the locks on the doors, even going so far as to check all the windows to. She peeked in on all the kids, and they were all accounted for. Still the fear persisted. She ran a hand across her scalp to the messy ponytail hanging limply on the back of her skull and turned away from the window to pace restlessly across the room. Her hazel-green eyes flickered across the living room and her hand lifted to her mouth. She caught herself before she started chewing on her nails, because her therapist said that was a nasty habit to break. Clasping her hands behind her back, Aimee made her way back to the couch.

A quick glance at her phone showed no new messages from Elizabeth. She liked Elizabeth and trusted her. The nurse was her only real friend and the only person that could persuade Aimee to come out of her homely hovel. She was a bit of a hermit, and it made her anxious to be outside of her house. _Maybe that is why I'm feeling so out of sorts, _Aimee thought, with a deep sigh. She reached out to pick up her book and attempted to read it once more, but the words blurred together before her eyes. She couldn't focus on it.

The sound of a small feet padding down the stairs made her crane her head to peer over her shoulder. It was Jake, he was walking down the stairs and rubbing at his tired eyes. She got up off the couch and made her way over to him. "Hey, Jake," Aimee said, with a look of concern. "What are you doing up? Did you have a bad dream?"

Jake shook his head, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "Wh—where is mom?" he asked, on a wide yawn.

"Uh, she is—she is still out. She had to go to a meeting, and it was very important. But I am sure that she will be home soon," Aimee told him, reassuringly. She knew that Jake was having issues adjusting back into a normal routine and given all that he had been through it was completely understandable. He didn't like being away from Elizabeth for long periods of time. "Do you want me to get you a glass of warm milk? Or maybe I can read you a story to help you go to sleep?"

"Can I just sit down here with you? Until mom gets home?" Jake asked, utilizing his puppy dog eyes to the fullest.

Aimee chuckled. "Alright. You can stay down here, but only if you go get your blanket and pillow and try to get some sleep, okay? Your mom would kick my butt if I allowed you to stay up past your bedtime."

"Okay," Jake agreed, with a sunny smile. He rushed up the stairs to go get his blanket and his pillow, while Aimee tossed her own blanket into the chair to let him have the couch to laid down on. She picked up her empty glass of wine and headed towards the kitchen. She stepped through the threshold and her eyes roamed over the kitchen before landing on the back door. Her heart slammed up into her throat when her eyes locked on the shadowy silhouette of a man dressed all in black, and she was rooted to the spot in fear unable to move. The air was too thin that she couldn't even breath, and the door handle rattled incessantly.

It was the sound of Jake calling out her name from the living room that spurred her into action.

"Jake, get back upstairs! Get upstairs now!" Her voice was shrill with fear and she watched the shadow man jerk back, startled by her screech. She saw the glint of eyes boring into her through the slit between the yellow curtain and she lunged forward the counter, the glass of wine dropped and shattered against the tile floor. She felt the shards pressed into the soles of her bare feet, but she didn't register the pain at all. All she could think about was getting a weapon and keeping the children safe from harm.

Her hand wrapped around the handle of butcher knife and she pulled it free from the knife block. By the time she whirled around to face the doorway, the man was gone, and her heart skipped at beat in her chest. She checked the locks and made they were secure, and before she ran back into the living room.

Jake stood there, his face was pale, and his eyes were filled with tears. His pillow and blanket were clutched tight to his chest. "Wha…what is going on?" He stuttered out, his voice wobbled with fear and confusion.

Aimee passed him to double check the locks on the front door and let out a dry sob of relief to see that it was still locked tight. A beam of headlights cut passed the front window and a car sped down the road with the tires squealing. _Was that the man who tried to break in? Did he run away or was that just a random car? _She swiped her hand down her face and turned around to face the frightened child. She wanted to comfort the boy, but she couldn't do that right this second. "Jakey, I need you to be brave right now. Can you do that?"

Jake swallowed, and then his head bobbed in a shaky nod.

"Go upstairs. Go upstairs and get your brother and your sister. Go to the bathroom and lock the door until I come and get you, alright?" Aimee whispered, patting his head gently. "Go, go now."

Jake sniffled, abandoning his blanket and pillow to rush up the stairs. Aimee grabbed her cellphone and dialed in 9-1-1. Her hand trembled as she held the phone up to her ear, she stood by the dining room table, so she had a view of both the front and back door. Her gaze darted between the two doors and she strained to listen for any sign of the man. The operator came over the phone and Aimee struggled to keep her voice calm. "I am Aimee Lancaster. I am babysitting at my neighbor's house, and a man just tried to break in. He was at the back door, but now he is gone—no, I don't know where he went! I have three kids here, and I—the address is 204 Maple Lane. Please, send somebody fast!"

Time crawled by a snail's pace while she stayed online with the operator, and Aimee wanted to rush upstairs to check up on the kids, but she needed to stay vigilante to make sure the man didn't come back. It was_ forty_ minutes later when a knock came to her front door, and Aimee peeked out the side window. Relief crashed down onto her shoulders when she set the knife off to the end table, she saw two men in police uniform, and she fumbled with the locks. She pulled open the front door, and she breathed out, "You are finally here. I—"

"You are not Miss Webber," the male officer said, with an accusatory tone.

"No, I am babysitting the kids. I told the operator that on the phone. Aimee Lancaster," she introduced herself, a little taken aback by the bite in the cop's tone.

"I am Officer Delores Padilla, and this is Officer Cruz Rodríguez. There was a report of an attempted break-in at this residence," the female officer said, with a calm tone. She gave her partner the side eye, but otherwise did not comment on his behavior.

"Yes. Please, uh, come in." Aimee stepped aside to allow them to enter the home. "It was the back door that the man tried to enter—I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't gone to put my glass in the sink, and I had just saw this man at the back door."

"Can you describe him?" Cruz asked.

"Not really. It was dark. All I could make out was his silhouette, and I didn't have my glasses on. He was tall, like really tall. Probably over six-foot-tall," Aimee said, wringing her hands together. "The kids are upstairs. I really need to check on them. They are scared, and they've been alone for a long time. I—I need to check on them."

"I'll go with you to check on the kids. Cruz, why don't you go check out the back door?" Officer Delores ordered, gesturing for Cruz to make his way to the back door. She followed Aimee upstairs to the bathroom door, and Aimee knocked on the door gently.

"It's alright, kids," Aimee said, through the door. "It's me. You can come out now."

There was the shuffle of feet and the small clink of the lock, and the door pulled opened to reveal a very tired Cameron standing there with a baseball bat in his hand. A peek behind him, Aimee saw two pairs of eyes peering over the edge of the tub. Jake and Emily had stowed away in the tub. Guilt lanced through Aimee and she hated that they had been up here, alone and afraid. But she had been so afraid that if she had gone upstairs to check on them then the man would have come back, and she wouldn't have heard him break in through the door or window until it was too late.

"What's going on?" Cameron asked, a quiver in his voice.

Aimee was unsure how much to tell them. She wasn't their parent or guardian, but she didn't want to lie to them, either. "I saw something at the backdoor, and had to call the police," she replied, trying to keep the details vague. "They are going to check it out."

"It was a person! I saw him, too!" Jake cried.

Aimee felt her heart drop. She hadn't realized Jake had been close enough to the kitchen to see to the backdoor. If she hadn't gone in there—if she hadn't realized that someone was trying to pick the lock, and Jake had been downstairs with her—a cold damp sweat broke out along her skin, and memories of the dark past dug into her mind. A hand braced on the doorway, Aimee tried to pull herself together because she couldn't just fall apart. She couldn't—not when she had to speak to the police, not when she had to take of the kids, and let Elizabeth know what happened. With the help of Officer Delores, she ushered the kids downstairs to the living room.

Aimee reached the bottom of the steps to see Officer Rodríguez looked through Elizabeth's pile of mail, his gaze flickered over to the pictures which included an old one of Jake's biological dad, Jason Morgan. "Excuse me, but since when does checking the backdoor require going through someone's mail?" She asked, an angry edge to her voice.

"It doesn't," Officer Delores stated, frostily. "Did you find anything?"

Officer Rodríguez dropped the letter in his hand back onto the end table. "The ground is too hard to leave footprints, but there is nicks around the keyhole on the deadbolt and the handle. The deadbolt was unlocked, the handle was still secured. Could have been tampered with," he admitted, with a leery look at Aimee. "It is not surprising though that someone tried to break in. It was only a matter of time."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" demanded Aimee.

"A'mee! You aren't supposed to saw bad words!" Emily chided, with a lisp. Her bright green eyes peered up at her through the curtain of red curls at Aimee, and a tiny fist clung to the hem of her shirt with a surprising amount of strength.

"Sorry." Aimee swept her gaze back to Rodríguez. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Rodríguez snorted. "As if you don't know."

"Officer Rodríguez, you are way out of line—" Officer Delores snapped.

"Oh, cut the crap, Padilla," Rodrguez interjected, with a huff. "You know that I am right. Nurse Webber got in bed with the mob, and she is paying the price for that decision."

Aimee felt her eyes grow wide in shock. "You jerk—"

Officer Delores inhaled, sharply. "Out to the car, Rodríguez," she told him, her tone cutting. "Now."

Rodríguez marched out the door, with a roll of his eyes. "If the mob moll wants protection, then maybe she could go beg Sonny. I bet if she got down on her knees and begged prettily enough—"

Aimee shifted, her hand curled tight into a fist and she was ready to deck the son of a bitch. She would have, too, if it hadn't been for the kids behind her. She glared daggers at the man and if looks could kill, he would have been a pile of ash. "You mother—"

"Out!" Officer Delores roared.

It took a few minutes for Aimee to get the kids settled down on the couch and she put on an old Popeye's cartoon that was playing on Boomerang for them to watch while Officer Delores took her statement at the dining table. She told her about everything from the man at the backdoor, to the car that peeled out of there just shortly after Aimee had caught the person in the act, and how she had sent Jake to get the other kids to hide somewhere safe. It only took ten minutes for the Officer to go through her statement, but it felt like forever to Aimee.

Officer Delores wrote down a number on a piece of paper and ripped it out of her notebook. She set the piece of paper down on the table, before she flipped the notepad shut and slid the pencil into the rings at the top. "I have already called in CSI to come in and check out the back door, and backyard to see what we can find. Given that it is fenced in, the suspect had to jump or climb to get over. Hopefully we find something that can get us a lead on where to go from there," she said, in a kind tone of voice. "We will have a couple patrol car come around for the rest of the night, and I will see about setting up a longer order with Chief Taggert. And this number," she added, sliding the piece of paper over to Aimee, "is if you want to file a formal complaint against Rodríguez."

"Thank you," Aimee said, quietly.

Officer Delores gave her a brief smile. "If you want to unlock the side gate, so when CSI get here they won't have to stomp through the house. Rodríguez and I will be standing guard until they get done and the patrol car makes its first round," she stated, before Aimee showed her out the door. Aimee quickly ran out to unlock the side gate as asked, before she headed back into check on the kids.

As soon as the front door shut behind her, she could feel all three of the kids' heads swivel towards her. A small laugh escaped her lips and she made her way over to them and sat down on the couch because her quaking knees weren't going to keep her standing up much longer. The adrenaline that had kept her going had long since faded away into fatigue, but she didn't dare to close her eyes, even with the police outside. "That was pretty scary, wasn't it?" She asked, her tone gentle.

Jake nodded, quietly.

"Ye'h," Emily mumbled.

"What happened?" Cameron asked, more assertive than his siblings. "Jake said there was a guy trying to break in, and that policeman—what did he mean by the things he said about mom?"

Aimee drew in a deep breath, contemplating her answers carefully. "There—there was someone who did try to break in, but the police are here, and we are safe. As for the things that Officer Rodríguez said, you don't need to worry about that. He was just trying to be mean," Aimee replied, with a wan smile. "And what do you we do with mean people?"

"Don't p-put up w'th 'em!" Emily said, enthusiastically.

"Don't put up with them," Aimee said, nodding. "That's right. Now, you all sit tight and I'm going to go into the kitchen quick to call your mom and let her know what is going on. Alright?" When she was sure the kids were going to be alright by themselves for a few minutes, she ducked into the kitchen and pulled out her cellphone. She found Elizabeth in her phone contacts and called her number.

"_Hey, Aimee. Sorry, I lost track of time. I was about to head home—"_

"Uh, Elizabeth, there is something I need to tell you," Aimee interrupted, hastily. She felt her brows scrunch together while she tapped anxiously on the countertop with her free hand. Her eyes flickered to the butcher knife that she had put back in the block only minutes ago, and she felt a shudder run down the length of her spine. "Someone tried to break into the house."

"_What?"_ Elizabeth gasped. _"Are the kids alright? Are you okay? What happened?"_

"I caught the guy in the act and scared him off with a bit of shouting. The police are here now, but the kids are a bit shaken up. I wasn't going to tell the kids about it until you got back, but Jake was downstairs when I encountered the guy, and he saw him, too," Aimee explained, tiredly. Her shoulders slumped on a hearty exhale, and she pressed her palm against her forehead. "I sent Jake upstairs to get Cameron and Emily, and to lock themselves in the bathroom because it was the safest place I could think of. It took the police forty minutes to get here after I called 911, and I hated leaving them up there. I didn't want to—" Her throat clogged up and she wiped away the tears from her eyes angrily. "But I was afraid he was going to come back. I was afraid that I left the downstairs, I wouldn't hear the window breaking or the door—I am so sorry. I had this bad feeling that I was being watched, but I just brushed it off and this happened. I am so sorry."

"_Hey, hey, this isn't your fault. You kept the kids safe, and that's all that matter. I'm on my way home now," _Elizabeth promised, her voice quaked a little bit. _"I'm going to get ahold of Epiphany or Laura, and see if they can come over to keep you all company, okay? This isn't your fault, Aimee."_

Her entire body shuddered on a shaky breath. "I know—I know that. I just wish…I just feel like there is more that I should have done," Aimee replied, her voice thick with emotion. "Having Epiphany or La—Laura here would be nice. I think it would help keep the kids calm until you got here. See you soon."

The phone call ended, and numbly Aimee went back into the living room. She curled up the chair to watch Tom and Jerry with the kids. Emily had already fallen back to sleep. Jake was nodding off, and Cameron was quietly watching the show. She sank into the cushion, hugging herself a little tighter and tried to not let old memories come crawling back in.

* * *

The docks were empty and silent at the time of night. Unable to bear the silence of the penthouse after Alexis left, Sam went for a walk to clear her thoughts. It was an oppression feeling, a helplessness that wrapped around her throat and pulled tight. She had called Spinelli, but it had gone to voicemail. She wanted to go through all the phone calls between Laura, Nikolas and Elizabeth in the last seven months to discover some dirt. He had yet to get back to her and being patient did not come to her naturally. She walked down to the water front, only to come to a halt with her heart flying up to meet the back of her throat.

Jason was there. He stood silent like a statue, and his eyes set on the island in the distance. It was barely visible in the hazy, dark of the night.

A tingle spread through her chest, a light-hearted feeling that made her giddy like a school girl. It was like fate had a way of pulling them together, and she felt a smile spread across her lips. She walked down the stairs; the creaking of the old wood caused him to turn towards her.

"Hey," she greeted, with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Hey."

"What are you doing down here?" asked Sam.

Jason shrugged. "Just needed a breather. Monica invited me over for dinner tonight, and well, let's just say things didn't go all that well. Ned announced his engagement to Olivia, and Tracy flipped out over it, while Monica made snarky comments. It was a chaotic mess," he replied, very tiredly.

She laughed. "That's the Quartermain way of life."

"I'm beginning to understand that. What about you?" he inquired, giving her a curious glance. "It is kind of late to be out, especially on a night as cold as this."

"Just needed a breather," she parroted, smiling when he chuckled. "I have a lot on my mind and the silence wasn't helping at all."

"Silence? Where was Patrick?" he asked.

Sam winced, finding the ground very interesting all the sudden.

"Hey." His tone was soft and imploring, with a frown on his face. "Something is obviously on your mind. You know you can just say it. I'm not going to judge you," he stated, earnestly.

Sam folded her arms over her chest. "You might as well know—I moved out of Patrick's."

"Really?" His eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "I thought—I thought everything was going good between you and Patrick."

"Jason, let's be honest. While I haven't been throwing myself at you for weeks, I haven't exactly been trying to keep my distance and give you time to come to term to things. I have pretty much using any opportunity itself to get close to you. I guess I was hoping to recapture…these feelings between us, to see my husband in your eyes because I part of me has never given up on you," Sam told her, her eyes softened. "I like being with you, even if we are just friends. I feel like you see me for who I really am, and you just accept me without conditions."

"If you are worried you are pushing me, don't be," Jason stated, with a reassuring smile. "All of you—you've all been really great about giving me space and time. If I thought I was being pushed or manhandled into something I didn't want to do, I would kick up a fuss and let you know. You're a good friend to me."

Sam laughed, lightly. "That's true."

She loved that he laughed and smiled more, that he wasn't so cold and remote like an island that she couldn't reach. Before Jason had returned to her in 2009, there were times that she looked into his eyes, even at the most intimate of moments, and felt like she begged him for something that couldn't give her. There were moments even after she had a ring on her finger and marriage certificate binding them in holy matrimony, like he would lose himself in his thoughts and there would be a stranger in her husband's place.

It had been just insecurities. Her own mind playing horrible tricks on her, and now she could see with perfect clarity. When Jason was killed, Sam was left with a broken life and so many regrets. But he was alive and here, and she didn't want to miss another second with him, and the way he was so warm with her, saying he didn't mind spending time with her just made her resolve stronger. It gave her hope that Elizabeth hadn't wormed her way back into his heart, and that Sam was still the person who owned it.

"Okay, what happens…it will happen," said Sam, with a shrug of her shoulder. "If you get your memories back, then you get them back. If you don't…you will always have a home, with friends that are loyal and supportive."

"And what more could I want?" Jason replied, with a chuckle. "I have to say, I think I really lucked out. I mean, I could have lived without getting hit by a car or having a whole facial reconstruction, and the physical therapy sucked. But I found myself back to the people I loved, back to the place that was my home, and even without all my memories…it's not a bad life I got here."

Snow begins to fall from the dark sky, drifting almost lazily down from the heavens. The breeze had an icy bit as it came off the waters, and Sam wrapped her leather jacket around her tighter. The docks were frankly ugly, with graffiti painted on the rundown buildings that were neglected. The only buildings that weren't in disrepair was the ones owned by Sonny.

It was a testament to how Sonny Corinthos destroyed everything surrounding him. She was one of the lucky ones to survive his touch. She had come to town with the intent to scam Jasper Jax out of the famed Deadman's Hand. That she was around Jax and her looked like Brenda Barrett, it had drawn Sonny to her like a moth to a flame. She had liked the danger around the mobster, and it had been like a flash in the pan. Hot and instant, but it fizzled out quickly.

Sonny wanted Brenda, not a replica. So, he dropped her like a hot potato into Jason's lap and then ran back to Carly so quickly it had left her head spinning. That baby had been her only tie to Sonny, and it hadn't been enough to win him over. Jason was the one who cared, who invested in her and her child. He had been her strength during that time and love had blossomed from that. It just wasn't a perfect love. After Adella died, all the mess with Alexis, there were fractures that began to sprout in the foundation of their relationship.

She hadn't fought hard enough. Jason had pushed her away. It allowed Elizabeth Webber to slip into the cracks and take advantage of the fallout. Sam had almost screwed up the best thing that ever happened to her, and she counted her lucky stars that Jason had back to her. That he wanted her to be his wife, even if they couldn't have a family. When he died, it had shattered her entire future. She had a second chance here, and it was her time to be happy.

No one would take that from her.

Jason frowned, looking up at the sky. "It's not exactly rain, is it?"

"How did you…wait a minute, did you just remember something?" Sam asked, her voice breathless. Her mouth went completely dry while her heart slammed into her ribcage.

"Yeah. You and me on a rooftop in the rain. Just a moment…a snippet, like a picture. We were outside and there were these colored lights." Jason cocked his head, the line of his jaw went taut while his hands twitched as if he could physically grab onto it and hold it tight. "I was holding you, and I think I kissed you. I don't know why we were there or how we got there. It's all just a haze, but it feels like it was a snippet of a memory…"

"It was," Sam said, choked with emotion. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her hands ached with the need to touch him. To reaffirm that powerful connection she had with him, but she knew that she had to play it all safe. She wouldn't risk losing him all over again. "It was real."

"I—I—" Frustration leaked into his expression and he swiped a hand down his face, angrily. "It is gone. It slipped through my fingers. I can remember little things but can't hold onto them."

"The fact that you are even remembering at all is a big achievement," Sam told him, with an optimistic tone. She had to bite back the smile, while vindication rolled across her skin like a lover's touch. It was only a matter of time that his love for her would come back, and she was the key to unlocking his memories, no Saint Elizabeth or Hurricane Carly. "Maybe you just need to find the right people, or triggers to bring everything back."

"Maybe," he conceded, with a nod. His brows snapped together, and his gaze returned to the snowfall, while the water lapped at the edge of the docks. "I just wished I knew why it feels like my brain is trying to reject my past."

A pinch of panic tugged at her gut at his words.

"Don't think like that. Don't give up on yourself," Sam begged, her voice wobbling. "You've been through so much. The trauma of being kidnapped and held captive, you have a lot to work through—just don't give up on yourself. Don't let Helena and Nikolas take one more thing from you."

He ran his hand down the back of his neck and blew out a hard breath. "Sam, I'm sorry. I know that this hasn't been easy for you. You and Patrick were about to walk down the aisle, and it was revealed at your engagement party—"

"It's fine. You have nothing to apologize for." Sam held up her hands to stop from apologizing for things that were beyond his control. "Besides, I should have figured that something would have went sideways. When has a big party with a bunch of people ever gone right in this town?"

Jason frowned, deeply. "I just know that it has been hard for you."

Sam gave a shallow and quick nod. "It has been. I just feel like I'm scrambling, lost in a dark tunnel with no light at the end. But, uh, I've been through tough times like that before and I know that I can survive those times again."

"I'm just sorry that you are in pain."

"Don't be sorry. You aren't the one responsible," she told him, firmly.

"Yeah. Helena and Nikolas were the ones who did this." Jason slid his hands into his jean pockets, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Helena died, alone and miserable. Nikolas doesn't look like he'll be getting out jail any time soon, and the DA is confident in the case against him. Justice is being done."

_Justice against everyone, but Elizabeth, _Sam thought, with a flash of anger. She didn't share her suspicions because Jason still held the nurse in high regard, and she didn't want to push him away by accusing Elizabeth without hard proof. _But I'll get the proof. I'll expose Elizabeth and I'll get my life back._

"It's getting late," Sam remarked, with a sigh. "I should be heading back."

"Okay. I'll see you around," Jason said.

Sam ignored the slight pang that hit her chest. She kind of hoped that he would offer to walk her home, but then she shrugged it off. It was like she needed to be coddled or have her hand held. She was an independent and strong woman, not a damsel like Little Miss Nightingale. The smile on her face as she walked away felt a bit stilted.

* * *

Mom wasn't home, so Molly Davis had the free reign to do whatever she wanted. She had invited her boyfriend, TJ, over to help him study for his SATs. Truth be told, they didn't get around to study a lot. The two of them had curled up on the couch and were in the middle of a make out session.

"Excuse me!" A voice interrupted them, snidely. "Why don't you get a room?"

Molly felt her heart kick in her chest, springing back from TJ. Her head snapped towards the landing where her older sister, Kristina Davis, stood with a nasty smirk on her lips. Kristina had been a bit of a bitch ever since she got kicked out of college and her parents found out after she hid it for several months. And Molly was her favorite target to pick on.

"Oh, that's right." Kristina tapped her manicured nail against her chin. "You don't need one. Molly doesn't ever want to have sex."

Molly rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. "Don't listen to my sister. She is just pissed because Mom isn't putting up with her melodrama anymore, and Sonny took away her monthly allowance since they found out that she got kicked out of college."

Kristina scoffed. "Ha! Please. I just thought TJ should be prepared for what he is getting into. My sister may be getting all hot and heavy with you now, but she'll be back to the little bookworm she is in the blink of an eye and all you will be getting from her is study notes," she snipped, her eyes narrowed on her younger sister.

Molly nearly took a flying leap off the couch to get to her sister, but TJ caught her by the arm to stop her before she didn't something that Kristina would regret. The two shared a long look and Molly relented with a sigh, but not without giving Kristina the stink eye.

"Look, Kristina, I don't know what's going on with you, but what Molly and I do is none of your business, alright? I am happy to spend time with her, whether we are kissing or just chilling out. Just because you don't have someone like that in your life, doesn't mean you get to belittle your sister for having one," TJ stated, in a tone that was calm yet firm. He looked back at his girlfriend while Kristina fumed. "I have to get going Molly. Mom doesn't mind me staying out late on the weekends, but she likes me to be home before her shift ends. And it's already past midnight…"

"Okay," Molly said.

TJ ducked down to press a quick, chaste kiss on her cheek. "See you later."

Molly turned pink. "Bye."

"Bye," he said, grabbing his backpack from the table. When the door shut behind him, Molly whirled around on her sister with a livid expression on her face.

"What the hell was that?" Molly demanded, hotly.

"Payback," Kristina said, with a smirk.

"For what?" Molly asked, beyond confused.

"I know that you told everyone about my troubles in school. I've been cornered by Mom, Sonny, even Michael," Kristina hissed, her features twisted with anger. "I can't believe that you would rat me out like that!"

Molly sighed. "I didn't say anything. I didn't have to. Did you really think you could get away with pretending you were still going to college when you weren't? That the Dean wouldn't make sure to send multiple letters or emails to Mom or Sonny about your expulsion until they replied—"

"I wanted to tell them on my terms," Kristina stated, tersely.

"Then you should have done it when you had the chance. It isn't my fault that you lied," Molly replied, defending herself. She couldn't believe that Kristina was trying to blame her for the mess she had made while away at college. "You are the one that plagiarized your thesis. You are the one who got expelled. You have to face the consequences for your actions. No one made you do any of those things. You made that choice, so I don't get where you get off be a jerk to everyone who loves you."

A laugh erupted out of Kristina. "Of course, you're so perfect Molly. You get straight As, you have a loyal boyfriend, and you just go out of your way to help those that you love. But you know what? You can stop going out of your way, and stop getting into my business," she snapped, pointing an accusing finger at Molly.

Molly was taken aback by the venom in her sister's voice. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, please, don't act all innocent." Kristina looked down her nose at Molly, practically vibrating with rage. "You have been all in my business since I got home."

"I haven't been up in anything."

The front door opened halting the argument. Alexis walked in, setting down her briefcase to shrug off her coat while her teeth chattered together. "It is freezing out there. I think we are in for a long winter, and a lot of snow if this keeps up. So, what are you two doing up?" she asked, while hanging her coat on the coat rack. Her light brown eyes were warm and filled with fondness as she looked at her two youngest children. "Watching some movies? Or…"

"Arguing actually," Kristina replied, bluntly.

"Oh." Alexis's smile dropped.

"Maybe now that you are home, you'll be able to get it through her skull that not everyone is out to get her or ruin her life." Molly gathered up her schoolbooks and papers off the coffee table, while glaring at Kristina the entire time. "Well, everyone but herself," she added, in a scathing tone.

"Molly," Alexis started, but Molly stomped up the stairs. "Alright. It looks like I am going to have to get answers out of you. What's going on between you and your sister?"

Kristina's expression soured. "Oh, it's just sister drama. You know how it is."

"Ah, sister drama. It fluctuates like the tides. One day you are in harmony and little angels, and the next day you are little devils that can't stop sniping at each other. But this didn't feel like any normal disagreement. I've never seen Molly rush off without trying to reconcile things with you," Alexis commented, her tone carefully neutral.

"And that's my fault?" Kristina asked.

"I never said it was," Alexis responded.

"You didn't have to! It is written plainly on your face!"

Alexis drew in a deep breath, trying to find her motherly patience. "Look, I understand that you feel that we are treating you unfairly. You feel attacked—you feel outnumbered, but that isn't what is going on. You want to feel better isn't of feeling ashamed for getting kicked out of college, so you are lashing out in a way to try to not feel—"

"My God! This isn't about college! I could care less about college," Kristina interrupted, her voice shrill with anger and bitterness. She marched over with a sneer curled on her upper lip. "It is about expectations. You and Sonny and everyone—you set these expectations for how other people should live their damn lives, and the second that we don't…we are suddenly wrong or suddenly the enemy."

"That is not true," Alexis said, hurt by the accusation.

"It is true," Kristina said, slipping on her coat and grabbing her purse. "I am so sorry that I can't live on this pedestal you want me to, like I'm some kind of living doll that you can—can live vicariously through. Maybe go find your own life instead of trying to control mine!"

Alexis watched, speechlessly while Kristina stormed out of the house. She gave a soft groan while rubbing her temples that throbbed with the onset of a headache, and she made her way slowly over the couch feeling like a thousand pound rested across her shoulders. She kicked off her high heels and propped her feet upon on the table while she found the remote. There was a vibration that startled her, and she paused for a split second before she drew her cellphone out of her pocket.

She glanced at the number lit upon the screen. It was Julian.

That was a whole other mess that she didn't want to think about right now. Her fiancé—well, ex-fiancé had promised her that he was no longer a part of the mob, but with the new arrival of his sister Olivia in town, she was starting to have some serious doubts. It had led to a verbal fight of epic proportions and she really didn't want to deal with the fallout right now.

Alexis shut her phone down and turned on Judge Judy. That never failed to cheer her up.

* * *

The sky was pitch black and the night was cold. A layer of snow covered the ground, and the exhaust from the trailed into the air like a cloud of smoke while the car warmed up to melt the layer of ice that coated the window. A bit of freezing rain that had came in right before the snow. Elizabeth stood by the car, rubbing her arms anxiously with her teeth chattering together and her coat seemed to do nothing against the chill.

"I shouldn't have left my kids," Elizabeth said, just beside herself with worry. "I should have insisted on waiting until the morning to come out here."

"Elizabeth, don't beat yourself up over this," responded Jason, his blue eyes looked at her beseechingly. He stood beside her with arms folded over his chest and a crease settled along this brow.

In her mind, she knew he was right. Her heart was not so easily persuaded. In her heart, she should have been there because she knew how it only took a moment—a single second for everything to go so horribly wrong. She pressed her face into her hands and drew in a shaky breath. She had thought after the truth had been revealed, that when all the ugliness of Nikolas' lies couldn't control her life any longer then she would finally find peace. Instead, her reality was shaken at its foundation and she couldn't seem to catch her breath to save her life.

"Are you coming back to Port Charles?" asked Elizabeth.

"I want to," he whispered out.

Her heart clenched tight. "But you can't."

"Elizabeth, I—" He looked so torn up. It was like his heart was being put through the blender. "I swear to you that won't always be like this."

Elizabeth understood, even it broke her heart. This was a difficult situation that she still couldn't entirely wrap her mind around, and it was just wishful thinking that he could come home now. If he had been able to do that then he would have shown up on her doorstep, not ask her to make a trip all the way out here. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm working with Robert and Anna. There are more phases to what Helena had planned that involved Faison, who is still at large and others that we have yet to identify. We…we left a trail towards Russia, breadcrumbs to distract anyone sent after us," Jason confided, quietly. "Hopefully, it buys us enough to time secure and fortify what we need to here in Port Charles."

"You make it sound like you are going to war."

Jason's tongue darted out across his chapped lips. "Something like it."

It was terrifying to hear him say that. It drove a spike of fear deep into her bones, and she swallowed hard. "Well, Helena always wanted to raise hell on Port Charles. I suppose we shouldn't be surprise that her reach extends even beyond the grave," said Elizabeth, on a shaky laugh. A gust of wind sent a wave of snowflakes dance in the space between them, and she mused how winter always seemed to be their season. "I called Francis while you went in to let Robin know what happened. He said he is putting a team of his best security on the first available fight out."

"That's good. Francis has good people," Jason replied, with a light nod. "They are reliable, and discreet."

Her teeth worried her lower lip. "Are you worried that the break in is connected to you?"

He scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. His eyes stared across the snow-covered ranch, and he inclined his head. "The timing is a bit suspicious," he said, quietly. "I'd rather you be safe than sorry."

Jason reached into his front pocket of his coat and pulled out a black flip phone. He held it out to Elizabeth, and she took it from him with a mild look of confusion. "It a specialized cellphone. It has an encryption which makes it near impossible to hack or trace," Jason explained, a hint of a smile on his face. "Robert got it from a friend who designs technology for the WSB."

Her blue eyes searched his face. "Why are you giving it to me?" asked Elizabeth.

"It is so we can keep in touch and you don't have to wonder and worry. I am…I am not about to repeat the same mistakes again," Jason replied, his voice soft and serious. "We've always let time stand against us or allow misunderstanding to drive a deeper wedge between us. I chose you when you weren't ready, and you chose me when I wasn't ready. When I walked away from you in the courthouse, I left a piece of myself behind. I realized how big of a mistake I was making when I would see you, and then see the boys, see how much I was missing—"

He paused to draw in a deep breath, and a breath shuddered through his chest. "You know how I took over the business from Sonny? After Johnny Zachara took over his father's business, I saw an opportunity to make the 'coffee' business legitimate. I started to work on a plan to trim out the illegal dealings, so that I could…I could come home to you, and our family."

"Jason, why didn't you say anything?" Elizabeth asked, a raw and painful edge to her voice.

"Because every time we tried, something or someone stood in our way. I didn't want to give anything the power to do so again, so I kept it to myself until—until I could build us a home to withstand the storm," Jason whispered. He turned towards the mansion, hopes and dreams unfulfilled shined in his blue eyes. The line of his shoulders drooped, and he bowed his head after a long minute. "And then everything happened with Michael waking up from the coma, and the trip to Mexico…I never got the chance. I _missed_ that chance."

She had a knuckle white grip on the cell phone. Today pulled no punches and had rocked the boat, leaving her feeling unbalanced and unsteady. There was one thing that shined clear and diamond bright was this overwhelming feeling of love and happiness, and it had all came rushing back—flooding into her soul, all because of him.

Patrick, bless his heart, had been right. She had never really let go of Jason. That chapter was still wide open and being written, even if it had been a long and taxing chapter. And…and she wasn't ready for it to be over. Jason had been one of the best parts of her life, even when they were so far apart, and everything seemed so wrong. She had always been able to count on him, and she should have trusted that instinct so much sooner. It would have saved them all so much grief.

"We've missed a lot of chances," Elizabeth whispered.

"We did. But not this one," he swore.

'_Not this one,'_ she quietly repeated in her mind. _'Come what may.'_

* * *

END OF CHAPTER!

Author's Note: Aimee has finally been officially introduced. Sam has some high hopes. Elizabeth and Jason are united, even if they both know that everything is far from perfect. I know that a few scenes seem out of place, but all scenes are part of storylines and plot points that will come full circle later. I will not include any scenes or characters that I feel do not have a place to move the story forward.

Author's Note 2: Chapter 4 and 5 will not be posted until Chapter 6 is nearly done, and until I have 7, 8, and 9 plotted out. I have an overall outline that I am breaking down into chapters as I go. It will be about two to three weeks until the next chapter unless I get a lot of writing done in a short amount of time. Fingers crossed.

RRs are appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own any character or history from General Hospital. That is the sole property of ABC. I am writing this because I love the history and stories for the most part, and to challenge myself as a writer in order to one day perhaps write original stories of my own.

Summary: (Set in 2015) When lies overshadow the truth, the world is a dark and unforgiving place. When the truth about Jason is revealed, it was supposed to be all over, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. Secrets and dangers stalk the streets of Port Charles, and no one is prepared for the fallout.

Pairings: Eventual Elizabeth/Jason

Aimee/Ross (Original Characters)

Robin/Patrick

*mentions of past relationships*

I want to thank, Bryantk82, Jmmartinez, ERCommandoTwilight, Twisted Musalih, trini12180, babeboo1968, RobJas, arcoiris0502, mif456, notenoughlove, killianariel18100, shermi, Wonderwomom, diamond2225leo, ghfan51184, lita4277, Bettyboop48748, Liasonfan75, 1bree, Meghie03, Shadow2485, brae76, jhplug, starlight guardian, IHEARTPADF00T, THEfictionfanatic for the favs.

I want to thank, Bryantk82, DisneyPrincess1986, Jmmartinez227129, kcke2pen, lsmalltown8, ERCommandoTwilight, Keoje3530, aphass, leeleelaya5, trini12180, ReedBrenda75, babeboo1968, Starbright62, LiasonFan50, RobJas, mif456, notenoughlove, shermi, Liason4220, Kimora J, arcoiris0502, Wonderwomom, diamond2225leo, ghfan51184, Fancyxo, byland, Mirage Rules, Liasonfan75, 1bree, Shadow2485, brae76, rebates912, sashahailee, bjq, jhplug, starlight guardian, FallenWings8Tears for the follows.

And I want to give a special thanks to, trini12180, arcoiris0502, fundays, kcke2pen, notenoughlove, Guest 1, ghran51184, lita4277, chicki'62, Jmmartinez227129, 1bree, twin69, bjq, starlight guardian, for the reviews!

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. My sister's school laptop was dropped and the network hardware broke, so it can't connect to the internet. She is borrowing my laptop, so I can't update freely as I want to. But her laptop is still good for writing, so while I have been set behind a bit in all I wanted to update, but I am writing and got this chapter done to give you all an update.

**Also apologizes to my Guest Reviews. It is apparently against the rules to answer reviews in chapters anymore. I am sorry.**

****Additional Changes to Canon: Ava and Morgan were never an item in any way, shape or form. Ava and Sonny slept together after Kate's death. There was no AJ returning, or any of that.

**Armand Assante as Valentin Cassidine**

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of Murder and Sexual Assault. Depictions of a horrific crime scene. (Partially inspired by the Law and Order: SVU episode "Accredo", which funny enough had the actor who plays Jerry Jacks as the villain. Sadly, no Jerry Jacks in this fic.)

* * *

**Chapter Four**

—**chapter theme song**—

—_"Icarus" _**by Bastille**—

* * *

At his desk, Dante Falconeri glanced the clock hanging on the far wall. It was a quarter past three. A slow and steady headache ramped up, with pain stabbing at his temples like a jackhammer. He had been up all night chasing endless leads on a cold case from years back. There had been rumors of a Black Market Organ Ring here in Port Charles, but it had led to a dead end and no substance that it was tucked away. But recent developments had caused Chief Taggert to put in on priority.

The hospital had made an official inquiry and requested the aid of police when it became apparent that there was something off with their records, especially those revolving around organ donation. At first, Dr. Obretcht merely expected fraud. It all was revealed to more sinister when a couple of deaths were linked to patients rejecting organ transplants. The organs harvested by hospitals had been stolen and be replaced by organs from only God knows where. There were incidents that indicated that this stretched back all the way to 2012, and now the hospital was having to review every case where there had been a transplant. There could be more victims out there, and several patients that had to be informed.

It all made his stomach turn thinking about it.

"I can't believe you are still here. Don't you have a wife to go home, too?" asked Delories, in a sardonic tone. Her eyes were glued to a computer screen while she was writing up documentation on a break in case that happened last night.

Dante sighed. "I wish."

Delores glanced over at him, with a flicker of concern. "Ah. I'm sorry. I thought things had been getting better between the two of you."

"So had I." Dante rolled the tension from his shoulder and scrubbed a hand down his face. "And then Dillion Quatermain shows back up in town, and they started spending time together since they both work at Crimson—and I don't know, I guess she was unsatisfied with how things were at home. Decided it wasn't good enough."

"So you are just letting her go?" asked Delores.

"I've learned that when Lulu makes up her mind, that's it. There is not changing and if I try—well, that would just make me public enemy number one in her eyes," he replied, with a flat smile. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against his chair, the wheels squeaked loudly. "And it is hard to fight for a marriage when it seems stacked against me. Things have never been quite right between us, since the affair I had with Valerie. That is all on me and that's my mistake to live with.

"I have been a good husband and father ever since, even when Lulu constantly throws it in my face. Now the shoes are on her feet and there is a whole different set of rules that apply to her when she is the one turning her back on our marriage," Dante commented. "I don't want to give up on Lulu, but I can't live like that."

Delores nodded her head. "I can understand that."

Dante flashed her a brief smile. "Anyways, thanks for putting up with me."

"I'm your partner. It's what I do," Delores replied.

"I don't think it is in your job description to listen to me complain about my marriage woe." Dante chuckled, reaching over to the phone on his desk that had started to ring. "Detective Falconeri," he answered, and his smile dropped off his face. He drew his chair up to his desk and grabbed his pencil. "Address? You notified Homicide? Okay, we are on our way."

Delores looked up from her paperwork. "What is going on?"

"A homicide in Brownstone, and it sounds brutal. Possible rape," Dante replied. He opened his desk drawer to retrieve his handgun and his badge. "Taggert is calling for back up. There is a lot of evidence to be collected, and the press already got wind of it."

"Son of bitch," Delores cursed. "I'll drive."

It was about a ten-minute drive down to Brownstone. This bit of town had seen better days and had been rundown by the growing crime in the area. He got of the car while eyeballing the various sketchy people on the snowy and darken street. Red and blue lights cut through the shadows, while three cop cars were parked in front of the building. They were led inside of the rundown apartment building and had to walk up three flights of stairs because the elevator was out of service.

They were stopped at the landing where they had to put on Tyvek suits, masks, gloves, and booties to prevent any possible contamination of the crime scene. Ronnie Dimestico was there to greet them at Apartment 13. He was an old buddy of Dante's, though their association had grown frosty even since Dante had grown closer to his father. A few screw ups got him demoted, and he was a beat cop most days. "Glad I'm not the only one who has to see this shitshow," he commented, wearily.

"Catch us up on what all that you've found," Delores stated.

"The apartments on the levels are in stages of renovation. No one is supposed to be up here, so you can imagine the surprise that the downstairs neighbor start to notice a water leak. They called the landlord, and the landlord found her…just not in time," Ronnie responded, a bleak tone his voice. He looked like he hadn't got a wink of sleep in days, and ready to keel over at any second. He added, when Delores moved forward, "Watch your step."

"I got it, thanks," Delores commented, avoiding the pool of blood.

The body was sprawled out across the kitchen floor. It was a young woman who couldn't be older than twenty years old. Her arms twisted at an awkward angle, and her entire chest and torso was covered in blood. A sheet had been placed over the lower half of her body to conserve modesty. Milky blue, lifeless eyes were cast towards the ceiling and her jaw was unhinged on a soundless scream.

"She was mutilated," Dante whispered. His stomach gave a sharp jerk, unused to such gruesome sights even in his line of work. He pulled his eyes away and ran a hand across his jaw, while a cold sweat broke out along his skin. "Any—anything else you can tell us?"

"She was stabbed multiple times in the chest, and in the torso. There also seems to be something carved into her skin, just below her elbow." Ronnie pinched the bridge of his nose, and then shook his head side to side. "She appears to have been sexually assaulted but won't know until the medical examiner does an exam."

"Do we know who she is?" asked Delores.

"No. There's no ID. No purse, no clothes."

Dante nodded. "So, the perp might have taken them. Delores, why don't you check the traffic cams and canvass the area, see if any of her neighbors can ID her."

"Yeah. I can do that," Delores said, looking a bit green around the gills. She turned around and made her way out of the apartment. A man walked past her and into the crime scene. His short dark hair was slicked back out of his face, and his onyx colored eyes were wide as he observed everything with careful attention.

"Who are you?" asked Dante.

"Harrison Chase, I am the new medical examiner." He flashed shook Dante and Ronnie's hands, before he walked over to the body. His expression twisted at the sight of the broken body, and he drew in a hissing breath through his clenched teeth. "God…that is horrible. Poor girl."

He set his bag down on the ground, careful not to disturb any of the evidence. He knelt down beside the body, leaning over to take in all the wounds and evidence. "Lacerations wounds on the upper arms…she fought her attacker but was overpower and sent the ground. There is blood in her hair and slight pooling of blood around the skull. Indicative of blunt force trauma," he spoke, low and quiet to himself. He opened his black bag up to remove a thermometer and inserted through the skin into the liver.

Dante pulled a face, suppressing a shudder.

"There is a mark. Right underneath her left breast," Chase commented, his eyes darted to the two officers. He gestured at the mark so that they could have a closer look at what he was talking about. "It isn't a stab wound. It looks like something like something has been carved into her skin."

"It looks like a brand," Ronnie said, horrified.

Dante stared at the strange symbol, coated in congealed and dark blood. "Any idea of what it says?"

"Can't tell with the blood," Chase replied, shaking his head. "When I get back the body back to the lab, the coroner will give it a closer look." He checked the thermometer before he removed it from the body. "Based on the temperature of her liver, I would estimate the time of death about nine o'clock last night. I think it is safe to say that this is murder. What the cause is, it'll have to wait until the coroner get to further examine the body."

"She was stabbed," Ronnie said, caustically. "I think that's pretty obvious."

Chase gave him a deadpanned look. "The stabbing is definitely a factor in the death, but how specifically the death played out is still up in the air. And Coroner Tait, like myself, doesn't like to make guesses," he said.

Dante looked over his curiously. "You take your job very seriously."

"I do. A medical examiner has a duty to be the voice for people who can no longer speak for themselves. I have a duty to document a person's last moment and do them justice in the small way that I can," Chase spoke, his voice filled with conviction.

"That's admirable," Dante commented, with a slight nod of his head.

A faint smile graced Chase's lips. "I like to think so."

Ronnie stiffened, his expression twisted into something ugly while his gaze was cast at the doorway. "What the hell is your baby brother doing here, Dante?" he asked, his tone harsh and chill.

Dante whipped around to see Michael loitering in the doorway. He looked pale and shaken, with his hands formed in a steeple and pressed to his mouth. He caught Dante's eyes and turned on heel, walking away from the threshold.

Dante gritted his teeth together. "You got this?"

"Yeah. I got it," Ronnie replied, after a moment.

Dante felt like he should say something more then he thought better of it. He walked out of the apartment and pulled the mask off his face. "Michael, what are you doing here?" he demanded, in a harsh whisper. "You know better than to be found skulking around crime scenes. With who our father is and your criminal record. You know, Scott Baldwin was re-elected as the Distinct Attorney. He would love to find any way to stick it to Sonny."

"I know! I know that, alright?" Michael replied. "But I—I couldn't _not _be here. That would look worse, I think."

"What do you mean?" Dante asked.

Michael sighed, looking very tired. "I own these apartments. I am _the_ landlord."

Dante stared, shock settling into his gut like a cold stone. "Fuck."

"Yeah." Michael nodded.

"Look, here is what we are going to do. Once we wrap up the crime scene, you are going to ride to the precinct with Delores and I. I know that you have likely given a statement already to an officer when they first got here, but I'm going to have you do it again," Dante told him, his expression grave. "I'm also going to need an air-tight alibi—"

"I—I—" Shame appeared on Michael's face, his eyes cast downward. "I don't think I can give you an air-tight alibi."

"Why not?" asked Dante.

"I was at my apartment all night until I received the call. I wasn't anywhere near here and had nothing to do with this," Michael stated, with a deep-set frown.

Dante stared. "And _no one_ can verify that?"

"No one I am willing to say can verify that," Michael replied.

"Michael—" Dante started, but Michael cut him off.

"No, Dante. Look it is complicated—and…and a lot of people could be hurt, if this gets out. I know how Baldwin will try spin it, giving what I did to Claudia all those years ago and that my alibi will be considered weak given there is no one that can support it, but I will corporate in every other way," Michael responded, earnestly. There was fear and shame written in his eyes, and he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. "Please, just…just don't push this, okay?"

"Fine. I won't push." Dante promised, reluctantly. "For now."

* * *

It was around four o'clock in the morning. The world was dark and quiet, with only a cop car driving by slowly to cut into the silence. The three kids were all cuddled up on the couch asleep. The credits rolling on the 'Power Ranger' movie that Aimee had to put on because Jake had woken up for the fifth time since the break in. It made her stomach churn with guilt, and Aimee propped her elbows on the tabletop, burying her face into her hands.

She could still feel the anxiety, coiled in her lungs like shards of ice. Monsters in the shapes of shadows draped across her mind like a veil, unwelcomed phantoms of a past she had tried to bury like a casket six feet into the ground. _Shards of glass that glinted in the moonlight and drops of blood that sat stark against the porcelain skin. A burning pain rippled along her skin and she choked on her tears, while the monster stood over her. A smile with too many teeth cut through the darkness, and the knife stained with her own blood—_

Laura set a cup of coffee down in front of her, jolting Aimee back into the present. "How did you sleep?"

"Sleep? I don't know what that is. It sounds like a nice word," Aimee joked, with a shaky laugh. She accepted the cup of coffee and flashed Laura a grateful smile. "I dozed a bit on and off, but every time a car passed by the house, I was wide awake. I think Jake could tell I was anxious."

Laura hummed, pouring some creamer into her coffee. "Jake is a very perceptive kid. He gets that from his father," she said, with a soft smile. "You do know that you kept those kids safe, right?"

Aimee snorted. "I screamed and the man ran off. That's hardly heroic."

"What really matters is the choices we make. Leave the heroics to the silver screen and books." Laura had a mild and humorous gleam in her eyes. "You might not see what you did as doing much, but you did _enough. _So please don't let yourself get caught up in misplaced guilt."

"I'll try," Aimee promised, with a half-smile.

"Well, try harder." Epiphany walked into the room from the kitchen. She was dipping the bag of tea in the steaming hot liquid, and she nudged the chair at the head of the table out with her foot so she could sit down. "We are already full up on people bearing burdens and guilt that they shouldn't. We don't have room to schedule any more pity parties, got it?"

Aimee held up her hands in surrender. "Got it."

Elizabeth came in through the front door, chased into the house by an icy chill. With a breath pulled in through chattering teeth, she shut the door tightly behind her and then was across the room in the blink of eye to check on her children. Her tear-filled eyes darted from child to child, and she clasped a hand across her trembling lips. A breath shuddered through her and she struggled to keep her composure together.

Guilt sliced into Aimee like a serrated blade. It wasn't all that talked about, but she knew that Elizabeth has suffered a near breakdown after Jake supposedly died. The anxiety and worry of trying to keep an eye on her children because one second—one second was all it took for something bad to happen. It was a type of hellish reality that Aimee could relate to, and she felt horrible that this break in was bringing back bad memories for Elizabeth.

Aimee jolted when Epiphany kicked her shin, and not too subtly mouthed "no pity parties."

She knew that she shouldn't feel guilty, but it wasn't easy to shut off her thoughts. It kept circling like a vulture in her mind about how she should have done more in some way. That she should have

Elizabeth fixed the blanket over Cameron, tucking it in and scooted Jake away from the edge of the couch. He mumbled in his sleep, but otherwise did not wake up. She ran her fingers through Emily's red locks, and then stepped back away from her children. She seemed to teeter on her feet, almost like she couldn't hold all the weight on her shoulder and then with a deep breath, she steeled herself.

She made her way into the kitchen and Laura swept her into a hug.

Elizabeth hugged Laura tightly, her eyes clenched closed in despair. "I am so sorry. There was a traffic jam—the ice on the road caused a massive accident, and a multiple car piled up, it was so terrible. There were so many ambulances and police and having to sit there for hours…" Elizabeth pulled away from the embrace and looked at the clock on the wall. "Oh, God, eight hours. I was stuck there for eight hours, and all I wanted to do was be home. I know that sounds selfish and I should be grateful that I wasn't a part of that accident—"

"I don't think anyone would call you selfish for wanting to get home to your kids after what happened last night," Laura told her, softly. "You don't have to apologize for any of that."

Elizabeth nodded. "Aimee, how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine."

Aimee dropped her gaze to the dark liquid in her cup. The column of her throat felt squeezed small that it was hard to get the words out. Shame prickled at her cheeks and turned them red, and it was hard to swallow back the guilt. She glanced at Epiphany out of the corner of her eye and scooted her legs out of reach in fear of another well aimed kick by the Head Nurse.

Aimee cleared her throat, roughly. "I owe you a wine glass, by the way."

"Forget the wine glass. I'm just glad that you and the kids are alright," Elizabeth said, with a shake of her head. She sank into the chair across from Aimee, her entire seemed to droop with exhaustion. "Did the police find anything? I mean, any clues that would lead them to who would do this?"

"Scratches and nicks on the locks on the back door. The man managed to get it one of them opened. They didn't really see any footprints, but one of the neighbors—oh!" A thought crashed into her like a bolt of lightning and caused her to sit up a little straighter. "Mister Clark, he put in that security cameras after some dick was stealing dogs from the neighborhood. He came over when the cops arrived, because all the lights and chaos, but he thinks he might have caught footage of the car that sped off from the camera on his porch. I haven't heard anything else about it though."

"That's good. Hopefully, the video will provide something useful," replied Elizabeth. "I can't believe this happening. Who would want to do something like this?"

"I can think of a few people," Epiphany stated, bluntly.

"Epiphany," Laura scolded.

"What? It is the truth." Epiphany leveled a flat look at the other woman. "Look, I'm not trying to be harsh, but we can't ignore the fact that last time Jason wanted to be with Elizabeth that upset a _lot_ of people. Elizabeth couldn't go a day without being harassed by some leech in Jason's life. And we all know how far Sam McCall is willing to go to keep Jason."

A painful shadow passed across Elizabeth's face at the mention of Jason's name. Aimee wouldn't have noticed at all if she hadn't been looking at the nurse to access her react to Epiphany's very valid concern. It was a type of shadow that Aimee was intimately familiar with. The shadow that came with a burden of a secret. There was the passing thought that it was residual guilt over keeping Jason's identity a secret, but that couldn't be it.

Elizabeth had been lighter and happier since the truth came out. This was something else, something new that happened, and Aimee started to wonder just where Elizabeth was last night. Questions trembled on the tip of her tongue, but she reeled them in before they could pass her lips. The last thing Elizabeth needed right now as an inquisition, but that didn't mean that Aimee wouldn't take her aside and speak to her later. Whatever had happened, it was hurting her friend and she wasn't going to let that slide without an explanation.

Laura twisted her hands nervously. "I didn't want to say anything…"

"About what?" asked Elizabeth.

"Sam approached me the other day. She was very confrontational," Laura replied, after a brief hesitation. "She is convinced that you are lying about Nikolas threatening you, and she is basing this all on a conversation she heard between Alice and Jake the other day at the Quartermain Manor. Apparently, we are keeping more secrets."

"I don't know what she could even—no, wait!" Elizabeth's eyes flared with frustration, and her lips thinned out into a firm line. Her fingers curled into her palms like she wanted to hit something hard. "I can think of one thing that she has completely taken out of context. Jake thought of the idea that maybe we should throw a party and celebrate all the birthdays that he and Jason had missed after the holiday season calm down. He was talking to Alice about running the idea to Monica, and to keep it a secret from Jason."

"If Sam this lie would blow apart Elizabeth's life, why would she feel the need to do something like this?" questioned Aimee.

Elizabeth pursed her lips into a thin, firm line. "Aimee has a point. I don't think Sam has anything to do with the break in. Not that she isn't capable of this kind of extreme, but if she is so confident to confront Laura publicly with all that she thinks she knows then she wouldn't feel the need to go through the effort," she stated.

"I think you are giving her too much credit," Epiphany said, with a disgruntled look.

"Possibly," Elizabeth granted, "but I would rather not borrow trouble where there isn't any."

"Yet." Laura gave her a long, knowing look. "There isn't trouble yet."

Aimee felt her stomach roll unpleasantly. "Just—just let Sam stick her own foot in. If she is this crazy to try to send someone to break into your house, she will show her true colors sooner or later. I will—" She licked her dry lips and smoothed a palm across her forehead. "I have already have a list of locksmiths that can come change your locks and I will be personally update your security system. Get some cameras installed around your house. Better cameras you'll find in retail."

"Oh, you don't have to go through all that trouble," Elizabeth told her.

She swallowed the knot in her throat. "Elizabeth, please just let me do this. For my own peace of my mind, if nothing else."

Elizabeth chewed on her lower lip. "Alright. I can pay—"

"No. I don't need the money."

Aimee wasn't about to her pay for that. Fear was like a knife poised at her throat right at her pulse. Goosebumps crawled across her flesh, and she clamped down her emotions. She didn't think she could put into words just important this was to her. Her tongue ran along the seams of her lips, and she shoved the cup of coffee away from her. "I just want to know that you all are safe," she added, after a long moment.

Elizabeth smiled. "If you are sure, it would be very much appreciated."

"I'm sure," Aimee replied, with a small smile. She glanced over at the clock on the wall and let out a deep sigh. "I am going to head home, unless you need me to stay?"

"No, we'll be okay," Elizabeth reassured her. "Thank you. Really, for everything."

Weariness lined her shoulders but Aimme managed to keep her lips upturned. "I didn't really do all that much, but you are welcome. Give the kids a big hug for me when they wake up?" she asked.

"Will do," Elizabeth promised.

Aimee quietly thanked both Laura and Epiphany for coming over, and hugged Elizabeth tightly before she made her way out of the Webber residence. She didn't bother buttoning up her coat, only pulling tight around her while she trudged across the frozen earth. The snow crunched beneath her feet and the chill nipped at her nose. She walked across the yard and road, past the yarrow bush that grew along her fence only to stop short in step.

The gate that led to her yard was wide open.

Panic shattered through her mind and scattered her thoughts to the wind. She _knew _that she had shut it and made sure it was secured behind her. No wind could have blown in ajar. It had to have been opened by a person. Her hand fished into her pockets for her keys with the mace keychain that she had bought like a year ago while she slowly made her way through the gate.

Her front door wasn't immediately in sight. The previous owners had taken the enclosed porch and former front door, to extend the living area and kitchen out. That made the back porch and entrance the new front door, so she had to walk up the walkway that wrapped around the edge of the house to get into her house.

It was a flawed design choice. It was something she had acknowledged quietly in the past, but now it hit her with all force of a punch to the face. She rounded the corner and a shout slammed in the back of her throat when she saw a person standing on her porch, peering in through the window.

And then…

And then her throat swelled up with so much anger and irritation that she felt like a balloon ready to burst.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Aimee, darkly.

* * *

In the kitchen of the large manor, the group of four had gathered around a white board that was set up along the counter with maps and papers tapped along the face of it. Pictures ran along the top of the board with names printed in blue marker beneath them, and Anna Devane glared daggers at the picture of Faison.

Anna formed a steeple with her hands and pressed it against her lips, while her dark eyes peered at the information on the white board. "Faison could be anywhere. I mean, he is a loose cannon," she stated, her gaze flickered to the map with markers dotted all along it. "Unpredictable and unstable, doesn't care who gets in his way."

"All the more reason to apprehend him quickly," Robert Scorpio responded.

Anna sighed. "We've got to tread carefully. We know that there are more people that are involved in this and if they catch wind that we are hunting them down, they will disappear."

"Faison will go to Port Charles," Robin stated, with a faraway look in her eyes.

"Are you sure?" asked Jason.

"Wouldn't Port Charles be the last place he would want to be? That seems a bit on the nose," Robert commented, frowning.

"Faison's obsession with mom…" Robin was pale, with her arms wrapped at her midsection. "It transferred to me during my time spent in that facility. The second he learns that I escape…he'll come to Port Charles. He'll go after Emma and Patrick."

"Robin, sweetheart," Anna whispered, "you should be resting…"

"I've rested enough," Robin said, with a stubborn glare. "I am not going to stand by. Not while that monster is targeting my family. It is my weak spot and Faison knows that. Jerry used it. Helena used it. He'll use it, too, if given the chance."

Jason ran his fingers through his hair. "I've already made contact with Francis. I let him know that the situation with the break-in at Elizabeth's might not be as simple as it seems. I'll update him and have him spare a few guards to keep an eye on Emma and Patrick," he promised.

Robin looked at him, gratefully. "Thank you."

"How did you get Francis to believe that it was really you?" asked Robert.

"We setup code words years ago. Just in case, the business was ever compromised or anyone in the business was compromised. Francis and I went over several situations and created the passcodes before he left Port Charles," Jason explained, shortly. "Sonny doesn't know them. Drew wouldn't, either. It isn't in the information that they used to condition him."

"Does Diane Miller know any of these passcodes?" asked Anna.

"She does."

"It might be smart to contact her before Drew can get any legal power of your finances and properties. According to our resident hacker, she has intercept several phone calls on _'Jason's'_ behalf from Carly Corinthos trying to get Diane to start the paperwork legally declaring you not dead," Robert stated, gravely. "And if they get ahold of your financials…"

"They could find about this place," Jason said, closing his eyes in frustration.

"How has Sam not found about this house?" Robin pointed out, after a long moment. "I mean, she was married to Drew who thought he was you for years."

"I did everything I could to hide it by setting up new personal accounts. No one knew about them, aside from myself and Diane," Jason responded. He worked his jaw up and down, pacing over the picture of Elizabeth and the boys that sat on the mantle. It was a small reminder of all that he was fighting to protect and keep. "It is unlikely that Drew knew about them, so he probably never asked Diane and Diane knew that it was something that I never wanted anyone else to know about. She isn't exactly the biggest fan of…certain people in my life."

"Yeah. I don't like Sam all that much, either," Robin said, bluntly.

Jason's mouth twitched. "I'll figure out a way to contact Diane as soon as possible."

"Alright. Now onto our biggest problem." Anna tapped the picture of a wealthy and distinguished looking gentleman, with familiar shaped brown eyes and an aquiline nose. He was unmistakably related to Nikolas and Alexis. "Valentin Cassidine."

"He arrived in Port Charles just after Nikolas was arrested," stated Robert, with a narrowed eyed look. "That is no mere coincidence. Whether he is involved or just sees an opportunity, all we have is pure speculation."

"So what do we actually know about him?" asked Jason.

"Valentin runs a highly trained mercenary cartel. He has money and power and influence that he forged himself after Mikkos disowned him when he was just a teenager. He and Helena hated each other, though that is not surprising given that Helena was never fond of Mikkos' children by way of infidelity," Robert stated, rapping his knuckles across the marble countertop. "Rumors about him range from the good, to the bad and the downright ugly. He is a shadow that moves freely in the underbelly of the world. A real life boogeyman that even Helena feared."

"My twin sister Alex, back before she turned traitor, worked for the WSB. It was one of the first missions we did separately, and—and you know, Alex was…she always had issues. She struggled to comprehend emotions, and the concepts of right and wrong. It wasn't until much later in life that she was properly diagnosed as a psychopath," Anna spoke up, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

Jason couldn't understand her hesitance to speak on her sister. Family could be a sore subject, especially when the history got ugly and painful. He often had mixed feelings about the Quartermains, and about AJ in particular. "What…what does your sister have to do with Valentin?" he asked.

Anna cleared her throat. "From what little information that the WSB is willing to give me, I know for a fact that she was assigned on a recruitment mission that involved Valentin. It went sideways for whatever reason and Valentin—he…he became even more ruthless afterwards."

"You think that Alex did something to Valentin? Something that has left a bit of bad blood?" asked Robin with concern.

"I know so," Anna stated, with a nod. "I know what my sister is capable of."

"It might be best for you to avoid crossing paths with him," Jason said, with a deep frown. "You and Alex look identical, if he were to mistake you for her then it could put you at risk."

Anna smiled, thinly. "I did that when I chose my profession. I've come too far to take that back."

"I think our best to deal with Faison and figure out what Valentin's plans is to setup some kind of trap in Port Charles for them," Robin suggested, twisting her hands in front of her. "But…but we have to wait until the right moment. They think they are safe because Jason hasn't returned, and Drew is still in his place…"

"Speaking of Drew, how certain are we that he is innocent victim?" asked Robert.

"We aren't. But…as of right now, there is nothing we can do about it. We need to let people believe that Drew is me for as long as possible, so we can have the upper hand on Faison and anyone else who thinks they are in the clear. I hate it," Jason admitted, his stomach filled with knots. "I hate it more than anything, but these are the cards we've been dealt. We have to make due with them."

"Whatever it takes," Robin vowed. "Whatever it takes to protect our families…we do it."

Jason nodded.

"Alright…alright." Robert got up out of the seat at the breakfast bar and placed his hands on his hips. "I'm going to call a contact of mine. One that I know knows the ins and out of the Cassidine family and can help us get a better profile on Valentin."

"Oh? And who is this contact?" asked Anna.

A sheepish expression crossed Robert's face. "Well, truth be told…I've never met this contact in person. Only through electronic messages over the last five years, but the information is always reliable."

"And you are sure this contact of yours can be trusted with this?" Jason asked, skeptically.

"Look, you've trusted Anna and this far, haven't you?" Robert stated, giving him a deadpanned look. "Have a little faith in other people, Morgan. Not all of us are out to screw you over."

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't used to working with people that he could rely. He hadn't been since Johnny was found to be traitor and Francis left, if he was being honest with himself. After that, he felt like he alone was trying to keep the business afloat and keep Sonny from spiraling out of control. He was the one trying to fix everything, so to stand here and have to accept that there were things out of his control made his stomach churn.

He blew out a deep breath. "Alright…I'll try."

Robert smirked. "I told you an old dog could learn a new trick."

"Dad!" Robin said, affronted.

Anna slapped Robert on the arm.

Jason tried to not have regrets about teaming up with them.

* * *

_I can't do anything right, _Kristina thought, her eyes welled up with tears. Her cheeks burned hot with shame, and her insides felt all torn to pieces. Her chest pumped up and down rapidly with each gulp of air, and her fingers dung into her arms while she stumbled down the street. She was nearing the market place, and she thought about taking shelter in Kelly's. Once she reached the restaurant, she approached the doors when a voice called out to her.

"Kristina!"

At the sight of Trey Mitchell, Kristina felt her blood grow hot and not in a good way. It was an old, lingering anger that had she hadn't let go for the last year and a half. His father, Joseph Scully Jr, had come back in to town deliberately to ruin her father's happiness with Kate Howard. Scully hated her father for having the business that he felt rightfully belonged to him and had set it up so that Trey was a producer on the fashion show that Kristina had pitched to a local tv network.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Kristina.

"I—I just came out here to clear my head." Trey looked away from her with shame bright in his cheeks. "But I saw you and thought…thought that you should know that I got a job offer in California. So I'm going to be leaving Port Charles," he said, quietly.

"Oh, yeah. Well, good riddance."

Trey sighed deeply. "Kristina, we were friends. I get that you are because you think my fath—my biological donor put me up to it, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I had no idea what he was planning. If I did I would have stop it."

"I'm not mad because of that!" Kristina's eyes were bright with fury. "I'm mad because when I tried to be with you despite all the mess, you completely shut me down!"

"Kristina—"

She shook her head violently side to side. "No! I don't want to hear how you are no good for me or that you don't feel that way about me. I've been done that road with Ethan and—and I'm cutting my losses before I get caught up too deep. Good luck with your career. I hope it makes you happy," she told him, with a scathingly look.

The twenty-five year old sucked in a harsh breath, raking his hands through his short blond hair. "It was never my intention to lead you on or make you think there was anything more than friendship between us," Trey told her, honestly.

"Well, you did."

Kristina marched away from him before she did something he would regret. She couldn't believe she had practically begged her dad to save his life after Scully and Trey had been exposed. Winding her arms tightly around her, she walked past him and Kelly's. She continued down 16th street until it hit main and decided to take her chances at the community center. _Maybe I can hang out at the community center. Do some volunteer work to get mom off my back and it gives me a reason not to head home to face the music, _Kristina thought with a downtrodden expression on her face.

She reached the large community center. It used to be a clinic that Nikolas Cassidine had tried to setup to help families with low income families, but that had fallen apart with a huge drug scandal. Russian mobs had been funneling fake drugs through clinics, and a lot of them had to be shut down in order to clean house, so to speak. Nikolas never reopened the clinic afterwards.

Entering the door, Kristina took a deep breath and savored the warmth. It only lasted a second when she noticed all the people standing there in the community center. She knew that people could rent the center out for special events. People who were setting up a stage and a crowd settled into white fold out chairs, waiting patiently.

Kristina scuttled back towards the doors, only to nearly run into a woman who had an arm full of papers and pamphlets. "Oh, my God! I am so sorry," Kristina apologized, a hand flying over her heart. "I just—I didn't mean to intrude. I was just coming to volunteer—"

"It's fine! I was in a hurry and wasn't watching myself," the lady said, brightly. "And you aren't intruding at all. This is an open seminar. We encourage people to come and hear what our program has to offer."

Kristina glanced around at all the nicely dressed people, and how put together everyone looked. She felt instantly out of place, amongst the crowd and just wanted to turn around and flee. "I—I don't think I will exactly fit in," Kristina stated, her voice unusually small.

The woman gave her a sympathetic and understanding smile. "I know what you are feeling. Couldn't find my place in the world. I struggled with school and family, and I felt like I was all alone in the world," she told her, earnestly. "When I was at my lowest, I stumbled into this group and it completely changed my life. It could change your life, too."

"Uh, well, I—"

It was a tempting offer. There was no denying that. All Kristina wanted was to find her own path and way in this world without being caught underneath the shadow of her parents or her holier than thou siblings. Her conviction to leave wavered, and the lady shifted all the papers to one side, so she could place a gentle hand on Kristina's shoulder.

"Just come in and listen. If you decide if it isn't for you, you can leave at any time."

Kristina chewed on her lower lip, glancing down on the watch on her wrist. She had been out all night, but—but she wasn't ready to go home. She didn't want to deal with anyone there, so she drew in a deep breath. "Okay," she agreed.

"Wonderful!" said the woman. "I'm Carol Lockhart!"

"Nice to meet you," she said, with a half-smile. "I'm Kristina Davis."

"Oh?" Carol tilted her head to the side. "Any relation to Alexis Davis? The only reason I ask is because I heard good things about her law practice and I am in the middle of an angry divorce."

"Uh, yeah." Kristina bit back the flare of annoyance. "But she isn't taking on any new clients right now."

"Oh, shame. Here is the pamphlet that we are giving out," Carol commented, leading Kristina over to the area reserved for the group. She handed the pamphlet over to Kristina with a big smile on her face. "You can take a seat anywhere. There is food if you are hungry and free drinks, but non-alcoholic drinks because the community center doesn't allow that. Oh, that is Billy waving me over. I have to go help finish setting up, but I hope that you find what you are looking for!"

"Me, too," whispered Kristina, underneath her breath.

Kristina chose a seat in the back, away from the other people milling about. Her dark eyes flickered across the pamphlet and she arched an eyebrow at the title. "Dawn of Day, huh?" she responded, with a mild tone. "_Learn how to harness the new dawn to guide you to a better day. _Here is to hoping."

Kristina was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Carol rush up to the dark-haired man in front of the make shift stage and point back towards her subtly. She didn't notice how the man turned around nor the calculating gleam that entered in eyes when he saw her.

* * *

Carly was looking over all the bills and invoices, scattered all over her desk and she swiped a hand along her brow. The hotel wasn't doing the best. Ever since her marriage to Franco had been plastered all over the tabloids, the Metrocourt had been labeled as the "Murderer's Hotel". The bad reputation made all her profits take a nose drive and the hotel was barely breaking even. If things didn't pick up with the Nutcracker Gala then she was going to have to start letting people go. She dropped her pen noisily onto the papers and walked out of her office to the foyer.

It was a designed for comfort with lush couches and fridges with high priced drinks. Her secretary—who was out on maternity leave—normally kept an eye on the area and would usher people into her office when it was time for a meeting or if a guest needed to speak to her personally. Carly walked over to the fridge and stole a water out of it. She screwed off the lid angrily and took a swig of water, looking around the room with a disgruntled look.

Ava Jerome shoved open the doors and marched into the room, like she owned the damn place.

"What are you doing here?" snapped Carly.

Ava sniffed, delicately. She raked an eye over the office, and her brow twitched upward. "Interesting decorating choices. A bit dated for my tastes," she commented, with a mocking smile. "As you know, I always do love to keep up with the current trends, but some people do like the retro theme—"

Carly put the lid back on her water and set it down on top of the fridge, before she turned around to face Ava head on. "What are you doing here?" she reiterated, her tone heated. "I'm not going to ask again."

Ava pivoted on her heels to walk over to examine the flowers on the desk. She seemed to buying time or testing the waters, which immediately put Carly on high alert. The manipulative witch was like an ugly and gnarled weed that had dug its roots deep into Port Charles. No amount of pruning could rectify that, but Carly had done her best to try.

"Christmas is just around the corner. It is a season of giving and forgiveness," Ava stated, as if they were discussing weather and that she was not asking a favor. "I was hoping that you and Sonny would extend me a bit of good will. A mother should always—"

"Uh-uh. No." The epiphany struck her like a lightning bolt. "You aren't seeing Avery for Christmas."

"Oh, please, Carly." Ava masked her anger behind a put upon sigh. "I want to see my daughter for Christmas. Where is your holiday spirit?"

"It went all _ba humbug _when you walked through the door," Carly snarked, with a brow arched upward while she stared down her nose at Ava. "The custody arrangement that you made with Sonny is gonna stay the same."

"You don't have a say in this, Carly. Avery is not your child and you are not Sonny's wife," Ava countered, frustration sat heavy upon her brow. Her eyes cut into Carly like knives, and her upper lip quivered. "I wouldn't be talking to you at all if Sonny would answer my phone calls, or the guards would let me see him."

"The guards know how to treat Sonny's leftovers."

Ava snorted. "Obviously not. Otherwise, they would have down away with you because you've long since spoiled."

Irritation licked up her throat like flames and Carly put her hands on her hips. "My tolerance for you is non-existent," she threatened, with a narrowed eyed look. "Leave or I'll call security to haul your ass out of here."

"Carly, I did not come here to fight. I just want to see my daughter and do what's best for her," Ava commented, mildly. It was a poor attempt to gain some kind of control over the situation, but Carly had faced better cons than Ava, so she saw right through her act.

"If you wanted to do what was best for Avery, you wouldn't have used her as a weapon or a tool since the second you gave birth to her. Hell, you used her even before she was born to. Or do you not remember all the scheming?" asked Carly.

"I am well aware of all my faults, Carly," Ava spat, her voice coated in venom. "I don't need you to give me an itinerary."

"If you were well aware of your mistakes, then you wouldn't have dared to come here and ask for things you know never is going to happen," Carly countered, harshly.

"And what is your idea for repentance? Running out of town with my tail between my legs?" Ava mocked.

"It would be a start and certainly make me happy."

"That's never going to happen. I have Kiki and Avery here, and I am not leaving them behind." Ava stood firm, with her chin raised almost defiantly. She had a knuckle white grip of the lapels of her jacket, tucking it in closer around her primly. "Just because I don't pay for my mistakes the way you hope, does not mean I don't have any remorse for the things I've done. And I am not about to let you use my past to justify keeping me away from Avery."

"Your past completely_ justifies_ why you are no good for that kid."

"I—uh, excuse me?" a voice hesitantly interrupted the argument.

Carly and Ava turned, startled.

A young woman couldn't be more than twenty-five years old stood there at the doorway. Her wide, bluish green eyes swept back and forth between the two older women, obviously picking up the undercurrent of tension. She shifted on the balls of her feet nervously, repositioning the purse strap on her shoulder and mustered up a half-hearted smile. "I was schedule for an interview for the nanny position. The lady at the front desk told me to come back this way. Do—do I have the wrong office?"

"No. No, you have the right place." Carly with a professional tone, erasing any trace of the frustration that she felt. "I'm Carly Corinthos. I will be conducting your interview."

Ava slowly turned and gave Carly a glacial look. "Last I checked you are still Missus Robert Frank," she commented, enjoying the flinch of disgust that Carly made at the mention of her soon to be ex-husband. "And nanny position? Why was I not informed that you were hiring a nanny to watch over Avery? I am her mother."

Carly worked her jaw up and down. "Miss Rutherford, why don't you step into my inner office while I finish up here?" she asked, plastering a paper-thin smile on her face.

The blond hesitated. "Okay…"

The young woman stepped into the office and Carly shut the door, before turning around to face Ava with a thunderous expression on her face. She marched forward, her heels clicking against the linoleum floor.

"Listen closely because I am only going to say this once. You messed up your chance to be in a part of Avery's life. You did that and no one else, and the only reason you haven't been completely kicked to the curb is because Sonny—well, Sonny always has a weak spot for his baby mamas," Carly stated, with a brittle tone. "It is one of his biggest flaws, but he knows what it is like to not have a mother. He tries to keep a civil relationship for the sake of his children. He is doing that for Avery in regards to you, despite all the shit that you've pulled and the fact that you helped kill Kate."

"She committed suicide, Carly," Ava replied, tersely.

"Your apathy was what killed her. She was still alive, weak and bleeding out, but she was alive when you walked into that office to confront her about whether or not she knew that your brother _Charlie _was actually Julian Jerome," Carly responded. She may not have liked Kate all that much, but that was a horrible way to die. "You seem to forget that I heard the recording. That I heard Kate begging you for help, because she realized that she made a mistake. But you capitalized on that mistake like the leech that you are."

Ava sneered. "Like you have any right to criticize me."

"Maybe I don't, but that isn't going to stop me." Carly didn't have a hit of remorse by tearing Ava down because she was one of the most vile people to ever step foot in Port Charles. It didn't help that Ava had latched onto Sonny during a time when Carly could have used him to keep herself from making the horrid mistake of marrying Franco. "Kate was in a dark place. Joe Scully Jr had shown up to blow Sonny's life to bits, using Kate's child that she didn't even remember as a tool. A child that was conceived with rape, and all that trauma that was locked away did a number on Kate. She was falling apart at the seams, and finally—finally when she reached out for help, it had to be _you _standing there. She begged you to help because she was too weak to help herself. Instead, you stood by and made sure she died before you even dialed for an ambulance."

"Even if I did what you allegedly said, there is no proof of that happening. No recording or flash drive that you can hold over my head," Ava replied, with a smirk. "And honestly, you should be thanking me, Carly. If Kate were alive then she would have reconciled things with Sonny. You would have been left on the outside, and we both know how much you like that."

Carly smirked. "You really are something. It is sad how you are constantly trying to find leverage or manipulate people to get your own way. You think you have some kind of upper hand here, but you don't because no matter what soft spot Sonny has for you, he will never endanger his child by letting you near her again. You used Kate's death to get to Sonny when he was vulnerable. You pop out a child an attempt to gain foothold in his life and business. But you were a notch in his bedpost, not something that would ever last. A flash in the pan and poof, it is all up in smoke."

"I feel like you are trying to say something." Ava sighed, heavily. She made a sharp gesture with her hand as if to spur Carly into hurrying up. "So just get to the point already, Carly."

"Your hold on Sonny is weak. Your connection to Avery is non-existent. And as soon as I have my way, I will be the only mother that Avery ever knows. You will be a bad memory for all of us," Carly stated, with relish. "So you can kiss that Christmas wish goodbye, and get the hell out of my hotel while I'm still feeling generous enough to not pummel the hell out of you."

Ava inhaled a sharp breath, spots of outrages darkened both her cheeks. "You'll regret this, Carly. You mark my words. One day—maybe not today, maybe tomorrow—but one day, you will regret this moment when your own past comes to haunt you and tear apart everything that you know."

Carly gave her a toothy smile. "Don't hold your breath."

Ava stormed off and slammed the door behind her so hard that it rattled the pictures hanging on the wall.

Carly closed her eyes, running her hands through her hair. She couldn't believe the nerve of that woman. There was something about Ava that just immediately raised her hackles and put her on the immediate defense. She would love for nothing more than to tear the bitch's world apart and send her packing, but she had more important things to focus on. She breathed in deep and released it slowly, and then made her way into the office.

"Hello. Please let me start off saying that I am sorry that you had to see that. I'm not sure how long you were there or what you heard, but that was the biological mother of the little girl," Carly stated, with a smile that resembled more of a grimace. She walked around the desk and claimed her large, overprice but worth every penny lush chair. She looked at the young woman that sat opposite of her, and felt it was necessary to give her fair warning about the hot mess she would be getting herself into by signing up to be Avery's nanny. "Meaning that is just a sample of what you might be dealing with if you accept this job, so if you want to go running, I will not blame you."

"Is that why there is hazard pay?" asked the young woman.

Carly laughed. "Something like that."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I am not going run anywhere. I interned as a teacher's aid at a boarding school, so I am well prepared to deal with entitled mothers. I'm Nelle Madison," the blond girl introduced herself, holding out her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Carly shook her hand. "The pleasure is all mine."

Carly was impressed that the girl hadn't left after witness the spat between her and Ava. If it wasn't for Ava putting up a stink about Max or Milo babysitting Avery for a few hours at a time, she wouldn't have gone searching for a babysitter or nanny. But it was nice to find a person with a bit of spine.

"So, I've been over your resume and it is practically perfect. One of the few that caught my eye," Carly said, steering the conversation into the interview. There hadn't been any other applicants. After Leticia's murder, she had been hard pressed to find a suitable nanny. The few nannies she managed to hire didn't last long in the face of Claudia—may the bitch rest in hell—and then afterwards, with her ill-advised marriage to Franco—

Well, it was all a fine mess of trying to juggle the kids to say the least.

"Can I ask why you applied for a job of nanny instead of being a teacher? It seems like you could have gotten a good job at any school," asked Carly, a bit curiously.

"I initially was going to, but I—" Nelle sighed, her eyes fluttered down to her hands clasped in her lap. "I just wanted to make a difference in a child's life. In a classroom, there is so many kids that need attention or need help, and teachers get stretched so thin. I was stretched thin trying to help grade papers, after school programs—it was like getting stuck in a rut, and I realized I was going to work myself to death before I was thirty. I figured a nanny job would offer me a bit of financial security for a time while I figured out my life plan once again," she admitted, with a shrug of her shoulder.

"Well, I am happy that you chose to apply for this one." Carly smiled brightly. "I called your references earlier, and they had nothing but glowing things to say. So if you want it, then the job is yours."

Nelle's eyebrows shot upward. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," Carly said.

"Wow. I mean, wow," Nelle said, with a breathless laugh. "I…I didn't expect to…no, you know what? I am not even going to question it. This was the bit of good luck that I was hoping for. Thank you so much."

"You are welcome," Carly replied. "Here is the schedule I have outlined, your responsibilities, the hours we will need you and any activities that you can do with Avery around town."

"It's laminated," Nelle said, taking the paper.

"Yeah." Carly looked a little bit sheepish. "I may have gotten carried away with the bullet points and the laminating—I like to mess with the laminating machine, though don't tell anyone that."

"Your secret is safe with me," Nelle promised.

Carly walked Nelle back out to the lobby and clasped her hands together in front of her. "I think that is everything for today. Do you have any questions or concerns?" she asked.

"No, I think I am good. Thank you again for this opportunity," Nelle said, with a big smile on her face.

"Oh, no, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to my family. Sonny and I both have hectic schedules, so having someone to help with Avery is a godsend," Carly responded, sincerely with a hand over her heart.

"Oh, Miss Corinthos." Marty called out from the front desk. "There is something that needs your attention right away."

"I have to go take care of that, but I will call to call you. We can set up a time and date so you can come over the house, get the general layout of the place and meet Avery and her father Sonny," Carly stated, before she and Nelle parted ways. She made her way over to the front desk with a deep set frown on her face, while her mind raced with what could have gone wrong this time. "What is going on, Marty? Please tell me that there isn't another cancellation or person asking for a refund—"

"No, it isn't that." Marty shook her head. "Uh, it is about the Event Insurance for the Nutcracker Gala. There are a few vendors who are asking for a Waiver of Subrogation—" Marty glanced down at her notes to make sure she got it right. "And then there is the fact that we don't have any Third-Party Damage Insurance, or Liquor Liability Insurance—we can't host an event without having all our bases covered."

In order to make ends meet, Carly had to make several cuts to her hotel. The insurance package that usually covered the cost of any mishaps had been reduced to the basic insurance, and that usually covered the majority of what was needed to keep her business running efficiently. She was sure that insurance was more than enough to cover any damages or accidents that might occur at the event, but she knew that the vendors wouldn't work with them without the waivers.

"Get the vendors the necessary paperwork," Carly stated. "I will worry about the rest of it."

"You sure, boss?" asked Marty.

"Yep." Carly forced a smile. She had no real intention of looking into or providing any more insurance. What she had currently was perfectly find, and to be honest, she didn't have time or energy to waste on that. She needed to talk to Jason as soon as possible, and give him a helpful push in the right direction. His family needed him and Carly needed him, especially far away from Elizabeth and her manipulations.

Carly had managed to push Elizabeth to the outside of Jason's life several times, and this time wouldn't be no different—only this time, Carly intended to plunge the knife a little bit deeper so Elizabeth wouldn't ever think about coming anywhere near Jason ever again.

* * *

Monica led Ross Shepperd through the hospital, giving him the grand tour of the place and putting on the charm, since Dr. Obretcht didn't have any to garner any donor support. And it didn't help that he was pretty easy on the eyes. Dark and curly hair slicked back out of his face, he had intense obsidian eyes and a sensuous shaped mouth.

_Oh, if I had been only thirty years younger, _Monica thought to herself with a soundless chuckle. She used the Gala tickets to fan her face discreetly and then cleared her throat when he turned towards her. "This is our Nurses Station," she said, gesturing towards it. "It is run by our Head Nurse Epiphany Johnson. You won't find a woman more efficient or dedicated to her job. She is the captain of the ship, so to speak and she keeps everything running in tip top shape."

Ross observed the nurses who were hard at work, the state of the computers and the number of patients in the waiting area. "It is amazing what you all have done here," Ross stated, with a small smile. "General Hospital has quite the legacy here in Port Charles."

"To be honest, it could be a bit better." Monica sighed, heavily. "After the bombing in 09, we had to completely rebuild. We did manage to get the latest equipment and technology, but not enough for the staff nor the patients that we have coming through her. The insurance company would only pay for so much, so we made due with what we have."

"So that is why wanted to throw the Gala," asked Ross.

"Yes. We have some of the best doctors—most innovative doctors in all the world that are working here. We just want to match their smarts with the best tools available, optimizing the care that we give our patients," Monica told him, honestly.

Ross nodded, understanding. "It is a worthy endeavor that you are undertaking. The right to a healthy life should be a right, not a luxury. It good that you work to do the best you can for your patients," he stated.

"Monica! There you are!" Tracy came marching off the elevator and stomped towards her. "I've been looking for you everywhere! You won't believe what that slimy snake Nikolas Cassidine did now!"

Monica cringed, despite her best efforts. "Tracy, I am a bit busy—"

"Monica, he sold off the shares! He sold off the shares of ELQ he had collected!" Tracy shouted, her face a puce color in outrage. She slammed her purse down on the counter of the Nurses Hub startling some poor nurse into practically fleeing.

"Tracy, I am in the middle of show the Ross Shepperd—you recall the generous benefactor that I spoke of that made the Nutcracker Gala possible? around the hospital as he requested. I will hear what you have to say afterwards—"

"Wait a minute." Tracy turned her attention to Ross, like a shark that smelt blood. She surveyed him with a suspicious look on her face, and her eyes narrowed into little slits. "Did you just say…Ross Shepperd?" she asked, in a corrosive tone.

Ross looked at Tracy, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "That is what they call me."

"You—you—you son of a bitch!"

"Tracy!" admonished Monica.

"Don't _'Tracy' _me! This is the lousy lout that stole ELQ right out from underneath me!" Tracy shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Ross and her eyes flashed daring him to deny it.

Monica stood there, slack-jawed. "Wh—what?"

Ross drew in a deep breath while he stared down Tracy, his smile becoming a bit more strained and all the good humor vanished from his eyes in an instant.

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER!**

Author's Note:

The Rabbit Holes—the rabbit holes I have to dive down in researching for fanfics. Sometimes I happy with the knowledge I find. Sometimes I regret everything complete. The rabbit hole I had to dive down for this one was "Event Insurance" and boy, I did not realize how technical insurance could get. I mean, I knew it was complicated but dang.

Ross Shepperd's Physical Description—he will get a proper, in depth description when Aimee and him cross paths.

Everything is starting to come together! Ehhhh!

RRs are appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

I want to thank, Bryantk82, Jmmartinez, ERCommandoTwilight, Twisted Musalih, trini12180, babeboo1968, RobJas, arcoiris0502, mif456, notenoughlove, killianariel18100, shermi, Wonderwomom, diamond2225leo, ghfan51184, lita4277, Bettyboop48748, Liasonfan75, 1bree, Meghie03, Shadow2485, brae76, jhplug, starlight guardian, IHEARTPADF00T, THEfictionfanatic for the favs.

I want to thank, Bryantk82, DisneyPrincess1986, Jmmartinez227129, kcke2pen, lsmalltown8, ERCommandoTwilight, Keoje3530, aphass, leeleelaya5, trini12180, ReedBrenda75, babeboo1968, Starbright62, LiasonFan50, RobJas, mif456, notenoughlove, shermi, Liason4220, Kimora J, arcoiris0502, Wonderwomom, diamond2225leo, ghfan51184, Fancyxo, byland, Mirage Rules, Liasonfan75, 1bree, Shadow2485, brae76, rebates912, sashahailee, bjq, jhplug, starlight guardian, FallenWings8Tears, SPEEDIE22, and mgrand11 for the follows.

I want to thank trini12180, fundays, starlight guardian, ghfan51184, arcoiris0502, noscruples, Guest 1, Guest 2, chiki'62, notenoughlove, Mona, for the reviews! :D

Guest 1: So apparently that was misinformation. I can still reply to guest reviews! (thanks to noscruples for letting me know) It honestly would have explained everything, and the writers could have gone Liason and Dream, giving two fanbases a good story instead of catering to one. Would have given all the actors and actresses some golden material, too. Sadly, all we have is fanfiction, but I am so glad that you are enjoying this. Liason will live on in fanfics forever, and there is new headcannons crafted by authors everyday. Thank you for taking the time to read and enjoy my stories. It is nice to know that there are still avid Liason fans out there. I love Tracy, she is amazing though I love Ross because I created him, but sassy Tracy is so fun to write. Exactly, Elizabeth was Emily's best friend and should have had a daughter named Emily. Emily didn't approve of Sam, so she is probably turning in her grave. It doesn't make it even more fitting that both Emilys were adopted, doesn't it? I always forget that Emily was adopted. Thank you for the wonderful review.

Guest 2: I haven't watched much, either. I've had to actually dig up transcipts and watch youtube videos, but while there is bits of cannon, overall it shifts out of the realm of canon so no need to know what happened on the show really. lol. It will be worse this time because the real Jason was the one that asked her to keep it a secret on his behalf. The Harpies' heads will explode because of that alone. There is a lot going on, but it all coming together. Thank you so much!

chiki'62: Thanks. Here be the new chap! ;)

Leasmom: Thank you for the review. I know there seems to be a lot going on, but a lot of what is happening is all connected to the Main Plot, so it will all work I promise. I have the bigger picture plotted out and all the scenes are building up to that.

Mona: Already on the hook! Success! I am glad that you are enjoying it. I am trying to update all my stories, and hopefully will get chapters up soon. It's been crazy busy, but I am working on it. :D

**I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE! I've had to share a laptop with my sis since hers broken, and the Office no longer works now, ugh. I also had to re-edit chapter 5-6-7 because the storyline wasn't setting up the way I wanted, so I have added more scenes to help smooth out any plot holes and now I am happy with how it is coming about.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

—**chapter theme song**—

—_"Thistle & Weeds" _**by Mumford and Sons**—

* * *

Ice churned in her blood that had nothing to do with the cold air that wrapped around her like a second skin. Aimee stood there, rigid as if she were carved from stone, and her pulse skyrocketing in her throat. Her eyes located onto one person that she never thought she would see ever again in a million years, and emotions careened through her at a neck breaking speed. Her feet stomped across the ground, and if she had the ability, the earth would have quaked.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, again. "Are you out of your mind?"

There were few things that could undo Aimee's composure, but seeing Claudette Beaulieu on her doorstep was one of them. Panic clamped down on her heart like a suture, and thoughts raced through her mind. _What is she doing here? How did she find me? _she thought, with her mouth went dry.

"Aimee, it's…it's be a while," Claudette replied, with a nervous edge to her voice. Her dyed bleach blond hair done up in a victory roll hairstyle straight out of the fifties, and heavily layer makeup put on with a well-practiced hand. Her friend was only four years older than her, but they looked decades apart. Years of drug abuse had weathered the former beauty queen more than time ever could. She was dressed in a ratty old coat, a pair of a black sweat and a t-shirt that had a few stains on it. "I needed your help with something, okay?"

"My help?" asked Aimee, with disbelief. "Are you kidding me?"

"I know I made a mess of things the last time we saw each other—"

"The word mess doesn't even describe what you did." Aimee heard her voice raise an octave, and indignation swept bright and hot in her cheeks. The sting of betrayal and fear that she had experienced at fourteen was not so easily forgotten. The memories clawed at her heart and made it very difficult to breath. "You have absolutely no right to show up at my house."

"I know that I don't," Claudette agreed, shame-faced. "I still had to come try and ask for your help."

The audacity that Claudette would track her down for a favor made her anger kick up a notch. If she were a cartoon character, she was certain that there would be steam blowing out of her ears at this point. She wanted to tell the blond just where she could shove her request, but there was one important thing that she had to know first. "How did you even find me?" she demanded, hotly.

"I remembered that you said that you thought you had some family in Port Charles. I thought after everything that to you that you might…well, might be here somewhere," Claudette replied, with a shaky smile. "I knew that it was a big leap of faith to hope. I was running about blindly and was about ready to give up until I saw you at the bookstore in the mall. I almost approached you then…"

"You _stalked _me?" Aimee asked, in disbelief.

It made her want to scream. It made her want to laugh. It made her want to tear herself apart at the seams, because after all the effort to cover her tracks and start life anew, it had to be something as innocuous as comment about some long lost family that would bring her past straight into her present. The persistent anxiety that wouldn't let her be now suddenly made sense.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't need to be," Claudette said, earnestly. Her tongue darted out across her chapped lips, and she wrung her hands together to keep them from shaking. "You were right about Jimmy, you know? He really was another user—"

"I am not here to go down memory lane. What do you need?" Aimee interrupted, hastily. She didn't want to hear that name. It would make her skin crawl and feel the need to take several showers. "Obviously, you are desperate if you make such a leap in logic of a story that I wrote years ago and a game was connected, even if it turned out to be a correct guess. So, what is that you think that I can do for you?"

Claudette gnawed on her lips, and then nodded her head. "Okay. Okay, I need a way out of the country. I may have…I may have gotten involved with someone that I really shouldn't have, Aimee," she said, with a watery and broken laugh. "It was so stupid. I knew who he was, and I still—I wanted something more than just working at a strip club and barely paying rent. So, I let myself be lure in by the rich, older gentlemen act, but it was all a ruse. All a ruse to get to you."

"What do you mean?" Aimee asked, with confusion. That foreboding air that had wrapped around her drew taut along her spine, and she stared at Claudette with growing alarm.

"He started to ask about…my past," Claudette said, quietly. "About the time that I dropped out of college, and then we became roommates in New York. I didn't notice it at first. How he would always drill me for information about you, but then I learned his logo was the Manticore and I put it all together…"

Horror bled into her expression, and she had to take a step back away from Claudette. Her jaw worked up and down, at a visible loss of words. She tunneled her fingers through her hair, and wide eyes darted all around while a lump was stuck in the middle of her throat. "_Him_? You had an affair with him?" she asked, her voice shrill. "Are you fucking insane? I told you what that monster did to my father—"

"I know, okay?" Claudette snapped. "I know that! He didn't use his real name when he was coming into the club, alright? He used an alias, and by the time I found out the truth, I had already had a child with the bastard!"

"What?" gaped Aimee.

"Charlotte. Her name is Charlotte," Claudette replied, her voice strained. She reached into the pocket to pull out her phone, and she pulled up a picture of herself with a little girl at a park. While the girl inherited her mother's blond curls, everything else from the color of her eyes to the shape of her smile came straight from _him_.

Aimee felt her heart dropped into her stomach like a cold stone. She wanted to deny it and accuse Claudette of lying, but she could not bring herself to voice it. A cold sweat broke out along her skin, and she started to hyperventilate. She shoved past Claudette to the front door, and fumbled with her keys, struggling with the simple task of unlocking the door. As soon as the door was opened, she grabbed the blond by her wrist and pulled her into the house. She slammed the door shut behind her and then whipped around on Claudette. "Were you followed? For fuck's sake, were you followed?"

"I wasn't! I mean, I didn't notice if I was followed," Claudette replied. "I wasn't exactly paying attention to that. I just wanted to get here as quickly as I could. I don't have any family, and you…you are the only person I knew that could help me."

Aimee barely resisted the urge to slap her silly. Her hands curled up into fists and she clenched her eyes shut tightly. This was the nightmare that she had been trying to outrun for years. He was like a black stain over all her good memories, and almost every single bad thing that happened to her lead straight back to that beast. That churning dark rage, the one that simmered in the scars on her heart, started to burn anew.

"I built myself a life. I built myself a life, after everything that happened to me." Her eyes peeled open and were swimming with tears. She turned to face Claudette, and stared daggers at the blond. "I have lived safely away from the hell that was my past, and you bring straight to my door like you have the right to set my life on fire."

"I know I don't have the right. You don't have do anything for me, but I am begging you for my daughter's sake," Claudette begged, her voice wobbled. A few tears slid down her cheeks and she looked at Aimee with a pleading stare. "You know what kind of monster he is. Are you really going to leave an innocent child in his path?"

"How dare you—you don't get to use my pas—" Aimee couldn't talk, she was so angry. She bit the inside of her cheek and turned on a half-circle away from Claudette with steam virtually pouring out of her ears. There were too many emotions bubbling and oozing inside of her to name, but the one that she could pinpoint stole all the wind out of her sails. The feeling of resignation pooled into her gut, and her shoulders sagged abruptly.

As much as she wanted to toss Claudette out on her ass, there was no way that she could leave an innocent kid in destruction's path. She had seen_ him—God, she couldn't even say the name, she was still that afraid_—tear family after family apart, in some sick and mad scheme to dominate the world. He wasn't the boogeyman in the closet, but the one that wanted right through the front door and wore the smile of a friend. Angry tears prickled at her eyes and she gulped in air desperately, while she stood there with her gaze fixed on the hardwood floors.

Her vein throbbed at her temples, and her teeth sank into her lower lip. She grabbed her purse from where it hung on the coat rack, just next to the doorway. Pulling out her wallet and flipping it open, she pulled out a blue card and thrust it out to Claudette.

"Here," she said.

Claudette hesitated a moment, before she took the card. "A credit card?" she asked.

Aimee shoved her wallet back down into the purse. "It is a prepaid visa underneath an alias. I had it in case of an emergency. It has five-hundred dollars on it. Get room 107 at the Metrocourt for the next couple of days. I'm going to reserve you a supper at the restaurant, and there you are going to meet a lawyer by the name of Mr. Banks," she stated, her voice quiet.

"Okay…" Claudette said, slowly.

"I'll make sure he has all the paperwork and funds to make sure you can get out of the country," Aimee told the blond, through gritted teeth. Her eyes were hard and unflinching, and the blond had to look away first. "You can start a new life, under a new name, and keep that little girl safe. She shouldn't have to pay for the consequences of your mistakes."

Claudette's chin quivered. "Aimee, thank you. Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me," she whispered out. "And…and I'm really sorry for before…"

"Don't." Aimee shook her head, violently. "Just go. And don't contact me ever again."

"Fair enough," Claudette responded, softly. There was a flicker of regret in her gaze, but she had gotten what she had wanted. She turned on heel and marched out of the house; the door shutting softly behind her, while Aimee stood there in the darkness.

Aimee burst into tears. It was sudden and uncontrollable, like a typhoon and she buried her face into hands. There was the urge to fall apart and sink into misery, and to drown within. But Aimee hadn't gotten to where she was by drowning. She had fought and clawed, for every inch of her life and she wasn't about to let the monster in her past back her into a corner now. Determination lit up in her chest like a blaze, and she wiped the tears away angrily.

This was her life, her _home. _And no boogeyman or monster under the bed was going to take that away from her ever again.

* * *

The air grew heavy and taut, where the stand-off between Ross Shepperd and Tracy Quartermain had the entire attention of the lobby without having a single eye fixated on them, save for the wide and unblinking eyes of Monica Quartermain. He stood tall underneath the withering and accusatory gaze, unintimidated by the older woman that was nearly had a foot shorter than him. The open and friendly demeanor he had previously shown was replaced by a more cool, and professional front.

"Miss Quartermain, I know that you may have grievances that you would like to air," Ross stated, trying to be diplomatic. "If you would like, you could come down to the office and I would be happy—"

"Oh, don't try to sale me snake-oil, you scoundrel." Her expression was so hard that her face might as well been carved out of stone. "I don't know where you get off by a company from a man accused of murder and fraud—"

"I bought most of the stock of ELQ because Mr. Cassidine was in dire financial trouble several months ago. I am sorry that you have just learned of this transaction, but the fraud charged that you speak of have nothing to with the stocks that I have. Only the shares that belong specifically to one Jason Morgan," Ross interrupted, with a tone of infinite patience. "Mr. Cassidine kept those for himself, though to what end I can't imagine. I suppose that he thought if he had a vested interest in ELQ, then he could eventually swindle it back from me once I did all the hard work to rebuild it. A foolish notion really."

"Oh, how very convenient," Tracy snipped.

"Not convenient. I've had to spend quite a lot of money on lawyers establishing that Nikolas Cassidine didn't cheat me, like he has done to so many others. I imagine that you are included in that but rest assured that I obtained the stock and shares legally and my hold on them is airtight," Ross responded. He had a tight-lipped smile with his head cocked to the side, find the situation only vaguely amusing though that only seemed to increase the woman's ire. "I can forward you all the paperwork, as a courtesy, if you wished to view it all for yourself."

Tracy scowled, her brows snapped together in an angry knot. "Paperwork is easily doctored or forged, and for someone who has had dealings with Nikolas, forgive me if I am not inclined to believe a work-out of your mouth," she responded, her tone cold and clipped.

"That is a bit unfair, don't you think, Tracy?" asked Monica. "You are the reason that Nikolas had the shares to take control of ELQ in the first place."

"He was Emily's fiancé, practically family. I allowed my sentimentality clouded my judgment," Tracy defended, with a glower in her sister-in-law's direction. "It is a mistake that I won't ever let be repeated."

"Ma'am—"

"Don't ma'am me," Tracy said, her voice cracked like a whip.

"ELQ has been treading water for the last decade, suffering horrible after the hotel fire in 2004, and the condom defect in 06, amongst a great number of bad investments," he said, simply. "Nikolas could have saved it, but he lacked vision and conviction. He didn't understand the value of your family legacy."

"And I suppose that you do?" Tracy asked, skeptically.

"You would be surprised, madame, how important I find family legacies to be. A family's legacy can be a special type of misery, or a well of salvation, depending on just on one carries the burden. A family's long history can cast a large and imposing shadows." Ross felt a tremor run down the length of his jaw. A cold shadow entered his gaze as it settled upon Tracy, and the edge of his smile was humorless and cut sharp like razor blade. "Some people are trapped by it. Some people thrive off the shadows. Others learn how to make their own light in spite of those shadows. Good or bad, we all chained to where we have come from. It might determine just where and how far we can go.

"I have every belief that ELQ has further to go, despite how far it has fallen. There need not be any antagonize between you and I," Ross told her, extending an olive branch. He had no desire to fight Tracy Quartermain, though he would do so if he must. He did not make the decision to come to Port Charles idly, and he had too much invested into ELQ to let it slip through his fingers. "I would very much welcome you to help rebuild ELQ from the ashes, not only because it is part of your legacy but because I know that you are someone who once puts her mind to something, does everything in her power to get it done."

"If I wanted a flowery speech by someone who will undoubtedly stab me in the back at the first chance, I would have gone to one of my ex-husbands," Tracy replied, with a frigid smile. She snatched her purse off the counter and squared her shoulders. "If you think that I am going to just let you waltz in out of nowhere, and steal ELQ from me, you have another thing coming, mister. This means war."

Tracy stormed off towards the elevator, but not before sparing him one last glower.

"That could have gone better," Monica commented, a bit awkwardly.

"Ah, yes. Well, if life went as half as good as we planned then there would be no room for surprise." He allowed the incident to roll off him like water. He glanced over at the doctor, threading his fingers through his hair. "I hope that you do not feel that I deceived you. I know that you are part of the Quartermain family, but as we had just met, it didn't feel right to bring up that I—"

"Bought ELQ out from under Tracy?" asked Monica, with a brow arched.

"Yes, that."

Monica chuckled, lightly. "To be perfectly honest? I haven't had the heart to care about ELQ. Alan and I became doctors to have a destiny away from the family business. That company has brought more grief into my home than anything else," she commented, with a wobbly smile. Her eyes were filled with loss and pain, and the line of her shoulders was weary. "It created toxic rivalries and impossible expectations and drove more than a few family members so far away that they haven't ever looked back. It even drove a few to their deaths."

"I'm sorry," Ross said, sympathetically.

"No, you don't apologize. For anything," Monica replied, giving her head a shake. "I know that Jason still owns shares, but I am glad that the shadow of ELQ doesn't rest fully on my house any longer. I just hope that you know what kind of task that you are undertaking."

Ross flashed a brief smile. "I never start anything that I don't intend to finish, I can assure you of that. Shall we continue the tour?" he asked.

"Of course, I would love to—"

"Dr. Quartermain!"

Monica closed her eyes in mute despair. "When it rains, it certainly pours. What do you want, Dr. Obretcht?" she asked, unenthused.

The Chief of Staff eyes were filled with irritation and cold rage. "Do not take that blasé tone with me, Dr. Quartermain," Liesl stated, scathingly. "The only reason I have tolerated the way you harass nurses on my staff is because you are one of the best doctors this hospital has, and good help in the medical world is always hard to find. However, that does not mean I will let your sister-in-law and your daughter-in-law stomp around here doing the same."

"Tracy just left—Sam? What is Sam doing here?" asked Monica, confused.

"She is in your office," Obretcht stated, flatly. "I imagine that she is here to once again pretend all the woe in the world belongs to her. Tell her to do it when you are not on the clock or hire an actual therapist if she wishes to waste an expert's time."

There was a moment where it looked like Monica wanted to make Obretcht eat her words, but then decided better of it. The doctor turned towards Ross with an apologetic look. "I am so sorry about this, Mr. Shepperd," she said, after a hearty sigh. "Truly. I can reschedule you for a better day if you wish to look around more and hear more about the hospital."

"I'll have my assistant contact you," Ross replied, with a nod. "I do hope that everything is well with your daughter-in-law."

The smile waned on the older woman's face. "Yes, so do I. She has…she has been through a lot recently, and it just seems to be the tip of the iceberg."

After a quick farewell, Ross made his way to the elevator and hit the button that would take him down to the parking lot. He fished his cellphone out his jacket pocket and was typing in a message when the elevator doors opened on the third floor. She was dressed for success in a pencil skirt, a violet flowing buttoned up shirt and a black blazer draped languidly over her shoulders. Her vibrant red hair was down up in a tight bun, and her grey eyes looked sharper with a neatly applied eyeliner in a cat's eye style. "What lucky timing," she stated, with a smirk. "I was hoping to run into you before you left?"

"Were you now?" His dark eyes analyzed her, taking in her all too pleased expression and vicious glittering eyes. She was an icy beauty, with a cold-heart to match for all the warmth in her life had been lost only seven months earlier. "I take that means everything is set for the Gala, and the people of Port Charles are none the wiser."

"As well as can be considered for this town, at any rate," she commented, her tone dry. She raked a perfectly manicured nail across the locket that rested just above her collarbone. "I understand the necessity of your charade, but I don't quite understand why you've chosen to involve yourself in this Nutcracker Gala. It is a good cause and all well-meaning, but we both know that you aren't here in Port Charles for the sake of the greater good. So tell me, how does this further your goals?"

"Everything I know about Port Charles has been fed to me through a grapevine, a filter that can't quite capture the essence of this place and the people." Ross threaded his fingers through his hair, while the corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. "It is a long game that I intend to play, and this Gala gives me ample opportunity to know all the players, and to move across the board freely to plan my next step. You'll be pleased to know that you are one of the first pieces on the board that I intend to put to good use."

"Oh, a pawn, am I?" she asked, with a laugh.

"Pawns are valuable pieces. Only a fool would mistake them for anything less." A sparkle of laughter lit his eyes, and he put his phone away when the elevators opened into the parking lot. "And I believe that you have been looking for a chance to unnerve Samantha McCall, now haven't you?"

Amelia Joffe smiled, like the cat that ate the canary.

* * *

With a phone pressed tight to her ear, Carly stood in her home office after having decide to come to have lunch with her kids. She nearly threw the phone in frustration when the same voicemail told her to leave a message, and she slammed the phone back into its cradle with a huff. "That is the fifth time I've left a message for Diane," she stated, irritably.

"What's going on?" asked Jocelyn. The teenager was seated at the breakfast bar and picking at her mashed potatoes with a fork, while scrolling through her cellphone in the other hand. "Why do you need to call Diane?"

"Trying to find Jason a lawyer," Carly answered, picking up an orange out of the fruit basket.

Morgan lifted his head out of his manga book and peered over the top at his mother with a deep-set frown. "I thought Diane was already Jason's lawyer," he said, very confused.

"Well, Jason was dead—or thought for a long time, so he no longer has her on retainer. I am trying to resolve all of that, but she is not answering my phone calls," Carly said, with a frown. She pulled a knife out of the chopping block and started to peel the orange.

Jocelyn set her phone down on the counter. "Maybe she is busy, mom. She does have other clients. Your husband for example," she said, with an all too innocent tone of voice.

"Okay. Please don't do that." "Don't troll your own mother with her past mistakes—"

"You are the one that married the troll. It isn't out fault that he won't crawl back under the bridge," Morgan commented, sharing a conspiratorial smirk with his younger sister.

Michael strode into the kitchen, rubbing a tired hand down his face. "Sorry that I am late. I got caught up with work and just got your message," he said, stealing a piece off bacon off Morgan's plate. He deftly avoided the fork aimed for his hand and at the food with relish while Morgan gave him a death stare. "What is this about trolls?"

Morgan chuckled, nearly choking on his milk while Jocelyn bit back a smile. Carly rolled her eyes at her youngest twos' antics and turned towards Michael with a put-upon expression. "I was talking about getting a lawyer for your Uncle Jason, but your sister and brother thought it be funny to call Franco a troll," she responded, with a put-upon sigh. "And decided to make joke at your poor mother's expense. Thankfully, I know that you love me enough to not make fun of me."

"That's because Michael is a kiss ass," Jocelyn jibbed.

Morgan made kissing noise, until Michael elbowed him in the side.

"Cut it out, you three," Carly chided them, with a fond shake of her head.

"Why are you trying to get Jason a lawyer? Is he in some kind of trouble?" asked Michael, curiously.

"No. Not any trouble. I just want to help, Jason." "He has been struggling ever since his identity came out, and this trial with Nikolas is just going to bring up a whole new set of emotions…I just wanted to him a bit of his life back. His house and his money, so he can stop working out of Julian Jerome's garage—"

"And so, Sonny will stop complaining about it," Jocelyn added, with an eyeroll.

Carly nodded, in agreement. "That, too. I—ow!"

The knife dropped to the floor with a clatter, and three drops of blood splattered onto the breakfast bar. Jocelyn and Morgan leapt to their feet and Michael was by his side in an instant. "Mom, are you okay?" her eldest asked, a note of panic in his voice.

"It's fine! It's fine!" Carly grabbed the nearest dishtowel to stem the bleeding. "Just a little scratch is all!"

There was a knock at the door, and Jason strolled into the kitchen. "Sorry to drop by unannounced—wow, what is going on?" he asked, immediately concerned by the chaotic scene. He broke through the trio who were crowding around their mom, like a row of a concerned ducklings.

"Jason!" Carly managed to beam happily, despite the pain etched into her face. "I didn't know you were going to be here!"

"I left my jacket here, after last week's dinner. It has been hectic the last few days that I hadn't had the chance to drop by, but this recent snowstorm turned that into a necessity. I had thought to let myself in quickly since I thought you'd be at work, and then I heard you yell. What happened?" he asked, taking Carly's hand. He took the rag that she had pressed to it and tired it around her palm tightly.

"I cut myself while peeling an orange of all things," Carly grouched.

"Okay. Uh, do you have a first aid kit?" Jason asked.

"In the hallway bathroom," Jocelyn replied, worriedly.

"I'm going to go get your mom bandaged up, so why don't you three clean up in here, please?" Jason

Morgan nodded.

"Good." Jason led Carly out of the room, holding her delicately by the wrist and down the hallway. Jocelyn heaved a deep breath, kneeling to pick up the orange and knife off the floor. She tossed it into the sink while Morgan grabbed some paper towels. He held them out to Michael, his eyes fixated on the wall.

"I can't, dude," Morgan said, his voice strained. "I can't stand the sight of blood, ever since…"

"I understand. I've got it," Michael told him, in a quiet and reassuring tone. His brother had been the one to find Kate Howard's body. It had left him nightmares and a fear of blood, ever since.

"So, since mom isn't here," Jocelyn spoke up, deciding to chance the subject, "why were you so late? That isn't like you, Golden Boy."

Michael sent her a sharp look and wiped the blood off the counter. "It is nothing."

"Oh, come on. Your clothes are rumpled, and you have dark circles underneath your eyes. It is obviously _something_," Morgan responded, with a deadpanned stare. "Come on, carebear. Share with your brother and sister. What's going on?"

"Don't call me 'carebear'!" Michael glared at him.

"Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?" Morgan asked, innocently.

"Yes!"

Jocelyn smirked, broadly. "Then we'll keep calling you it until you tell us what is up, carebear."

"Fine! If it will make you not call me that ever again then I will tell you, but if a word of this reaches back to mom, I swear by every cell of my Quartermain blood that I will make your lives hell. You think it is easy being the oldest? I have mom harping on me all the time for my decision, and you two—you two haven't dealt with the full force of that," Michael told them, his voice stern and serious. He tossed the bloodstained paper towel into the trashcan. "If you tell mom, I will make sure that every decision you make or any little thing you do that she wouldn't approve of, finds it way right into her ear. Understand?"

"Chill out there, Don Corleone. Damn, it is something serious, isn't it?" Morgan asked. The laughter faded from his dark eyes, and he turned around to peer at his brother carefully.

Michael drew in a deep breath, bracing his palms on the counter and shook his head slowly. "A woman was found murdered in one of the apartments that I am currently renovating," he explained, in a quiet, hushed tone. "The ones that Jax was working with me on."

Jocelyn gasped, her hands flying to her face. "Oh, my God. Does dad know yet?"

"I left him a voicemail to call me back, but Jax has been really hard to reach lately. Anyways, the reason I look a mess was because I went down to the police station with Dante," Michael replied, with a wince. "Wanted to get in front of this mess, so to speak. You all know how Taggert is."

"I'm surprised you aren't sitting in a jailcell," Morgan said, scathingly.

"I think Taggert is hoping by letting me go, then I'll somehow implicate Sonny or Jason. I don't want any of them to know about this. Sonny would try to send me off while he pressures Jason to fix everything, and mom would just be trying to get involved and making everything a mess." Michael buried his face into his hands, and then plopped down into a seat. "I feel like I am walking on pins and needles."

"That is such bullshit. They are gunning for you when you did nothing wrong," Jocelyn stated, furiously.

"I went to jail for Claudia's murder. That's on my record, even if the case was ruled as self-defense. That is a mark against me." His hands fell away from his face, and he looked horribly exhausted. "Sonny being my dad and Jason being my uncle is another thing set against me. You can imagine just how much I don't want mom to know about any of this."

Jocelyn sighed, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder. "I wouldn't be _that_ worried that mom is going to stick her nose into your business. I think mom has so much on her plate that she isn't going to notice any of us,"

"What do you mean?"

"You seriously didn't see the way she looked at Jason?" she asked, her eyes flickered between her two brothers. "When he was wrapping up her hand, mom looked at him like the whole world revolved around him. It isn't the first time that she has made eyes at him, either. Jason doesn't register it, or seem to notice, but that doesn't stop mom. I honestly think if she thought she had a shot with Uncle Jason, she would jump at it without thinking it through."

Morgan shuddered. "That's a recipe for disaster."

"Yeah, let's not…let's not even put that out there in the universe," Michael stated. He looked a bit green around the gills at the thought of his mom and Jason together. "We already have enough trouble in this family as is. We don't need to add anymore to that."

"Tell that to our mom," Jocelyn retorted, petulantly.

* * *

After finding the first aid kit, Jason and Carly went to the living room. He was very gentle while applying the antiseptic cream and then wrapping the bandage around her hand. It was like catching a glimpse of the softer side of Jason, the side he rarely shared with anyone and Carly felt warmth flood through her chest. It wasn't perfect because he didn't have his memories back yet, but it was nice to know that somewhere underneath all that haze, her best friend still shined through.

Carly smiled, a little embarrassed. "Thank you for helping me. You did a really good job, probably better than anyone at the hospital would have done," she said, showing off her neatly bandaged hand.

"Must be a little bit of Jason Quartermain. He was trying to be a doctor, right?" Jason asked. He was putting everything back into the first aid kit, and he glanced over at her where she sat on the couch. "Whoa, what was that face for?"

"Face? What face?" Carly blinked.

"The face you just pulled when I spoke about Jason Quartermain," he said, after a small chuckle escaped him.

Carly sighed, pursing her lips and leaning back on the couch. "Alright. Look, I never knew you as Jason Quartermain, but I know that Jason Q would have never lowered himself to consider me a friend. He was a high classed snob, born into money and let his parents hold the reins of his life. And while admittedly this is selfish thought because I got my best friend out of someone else's tragedy, but Jason Morgan was a vast improvement over the former," she commented,

Jason shut the lid on the first aid kit with a click, and he set it down on the coffee table before he claimed a seat beside Carly on the couch. "That is the thing though…I don't know if I am Jason," he replied. "I feel more like broken pieces of a man, than an actual person."

"Don't…don't say that, alright? You are here and you are real," Carly pleaded, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You've built yourself a life up from nothing before, and you can do it again, and the person who you are? I already know he is a good man, old memories or not."

"Thanks."

"So…" Carly looked at him with an expectant smile. "Since you are here, and the kids are here, do you want to stick around for lunch? I promise I won't handle anymore sharp objects."

Jason shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I would love to stay for lunch, but unfortunately I can't today. There are a few things that I need to get settled. Paperwork for my hospital stay, and I am going to swing by Elizabeth's to see Jake—"

"Jason, I am not sure that is a good idea," Carly interjected, hastily. "You are still recovering from so much, and—"

"Carly, I want to see my son," Jason told her, firmly.

"Okay. I know you do. You have right to see your son, and that would be perfectly simple if it were not for Elizabeth," she responded, with a fierce tone. Her eyes seemed to blaze with a maniac light, and her lips twisted with distaste. "You don't see her for what she is. She is a snake, a bottom feeder who just happened to be born with a good family name to give her a leg up from the rest of us, and over the years, she has found dozens of ways to manipulate you. When it comes to Elizabeth, you have this need to defend her honor like some knight of the roundtable and I don't want to mistake misguided obligation for love."

"Stop, Carly. I am not going to sit and listen to you badmouth Elizabeth." Jason sent Carly a tired, exhausted look having heard the same argument a hundred different ways over the last few months. It was repetitive and sounded like nails on a chalk board. He didn't want to hear it anymore. "I know that you care for me, and you want to fight for me. This isn't the way to do that."

"How can you say that? You are in such a vulnerable state right now, and I have seen Elizabeth pounce on that vulnerability before. I have seen her ask you to sacrifice so much of who you are, so she could keep her lily-white reputation." Carly leapt up off the couch, affronted that he wasn't taking her warning all that serious. It burned her that Elizabeth Webber could go around, shining like an angel in everyone's eyes and worst of all that Jason could be blinded by her, too. "I am begging you to not fall for it again. I know that you have a son to consider, and you are the best father that kid could have, but you don't have to get involved with Elizabeth to do that."

"And what if that's what I want, Carly?" asked Jason. "What if I want to be with Elizabeth? What if that is what would make me happy?"

"It won't, Jason! You never chose her. Think about what that _means_ for a moment." A ruddy color had stolen into her cheeks, and she jabbed a finger in his direction. "You never chose to be with her, because there was a part of you that knew deep down in your heart that she was completely wrong with you. That this illusion that she paints for you—this unattainable dream, was never going to fit in your reality.

"And have you even stopped to think about what you stand to lose by chasing Elizabeth? Have you even stopped to consider Sam in all of this? You know, the woman who is your wife?" Carly questioned, hotly.

"Sam is just a friend. I don't see her in a romantic way," he said, softly.

"That is because you haven't let yourself. You have had your eyes locked on Elizabeth that you haven't even looked at Sam," Carly said, practically begging him to listen to reason. "Don't you owe it to the relationship, the marriage that you once had to try to find that connection? Don't you owe that to yourself?"

Jason flexed his jaw, trying to loosen up the tension before his gaze flickered over to Carly. "I'm not going to argument with you about this. You know where I stand, and I don't want every time we talk to turn into a fight—"

"I don't want it to be one, either—"

"But you make it one, Carly. You nitpick me over Sam, you fight with me over my feelings for Elizabeth, and it is exhausting to the point of ridiculous. I am beginning to feel more like a punching bag for you, than an actual friend," Jason responded, frustrated.

"I'm sorry. Really, I am sorry." Carly was suddenly close to tears, and she fought to keep them under wrap. "I just want what is best for you. I just don't want you to give up hope reclaiming what is yours, and to give up a life that made you happy for one that I feel will make you miserable. You could have a miracle and remember everything…"

"There might not be the miracle you are looking for. Nothing is going to change what happened to me, so you might have to accept this is the new reality—the new me, and that I might be stuck that way no matter how much reconnecting I do with my past," Jason responded, his tone even. .

"When Sonny had been shot by that dirty cop attempting to kidnap TJ to blackmail his mother? You saved him on _instinct_ alone. What about our connection? I didn't know your face, but I recognized my best friend, and a part of you recognized me, too. That is how I know that Jason Morgan is still inside of you deep down."

"When I was told I was Jason Morgan, do you know what I felt? I felt absolutely nothing. There was not gut-punch moment, no jolt of realization…only cold-hard confusion. Nothing came back to me," "It didn't mean anything to me. I've accepted that, and I can move on."

"Well, I can't!" Carly snapped. "I won't!"

"Carly, what I can have, what I want, is to move forward, to move ahead, and I want to do that with Elizabeth," Jason told her, plainly. "If she will let me."

"I don't consider that moving ahead at all," Carly replied, bitterly.

Jason shook his head. "Well, that really isn't your call to make."

"How can you not see that she is playing you? The poor fragile glower, the victim—I mean, for someone so frail, Elizabeth has one hell of a grasp, because she latched onto you and she won't let go!" Carly stated, her voice rising to a shout.

Jason grimaced, clenching and unclenching his jaw. "I'm going to get my jacket and go. There is nothing more for us to talk about right now, and I don't want to say something that I am going to regret," he spoke, his voice rough with anger. "Don't go near Elizabeth again. I won't have you bully her, you hear me?"

"You are making a mistake," she whispered out.

"I think my mistake was coming here, at all."

Carly recoiled, struck by his words. This time she couldn't hold the tears back and looked at her best friend, with betrayal etched onto her features. "You don't mean that," she stated, with a stubborn shake of her head. "You don't mean that. Jason, you don't mean that."

"Stop pushing, Carly." Jason leveled a look at her. His expression was resigned, mixed in with sorrow and irritation. "Or you are going to push me right out of your life."

Her knees buckled after he walked out of the room without a single glance back. She collapsed back on the couch, unable to breath and her shaky hands pressed to the base of her throat where her heart had been lodged. A cold panic clamped down her lungs, and she felt like the earth had spun off its axis. It was like Jason's death all over again, but worse because he was choosing to walk away from her. The ice in her soul gave way to an inferno, a raging hate that had been was over a decade old and she felt her nails bite into her flesh.

She had to expose Elizabeth Webber for the lying bitch she was. Over her dead body was she going to let that skank get her claws into him and steal him away from everyone who loved him. There was only one surefire was to put a wrench into Jason's plans to romance the insipid nurse.

And his name was Lucky Spencer.

* * *

Elizabeth walked up the staircase, with a laundry basket full of clothes and made her way into her room. She nudged the door open with a toe and set the basket on the bed with a hearty sigh. The last twenty-four hours had been some of the most trying and tiring that she had ever gone through, and there was this knot in her throat. A knot that she could get rid of that just said there was more to come. She scrubbed her hands down her face, and then set up about separating and folding the laundry.

The hinges on the door creaked, and she turned to see Jake there.

"Hey, Jake." She smiled at him. "Why aren't you outside with your siblings? Didn't Lucas and Felix promise to help you kids build snowmen?"

"Can dad come over? I would feel really better if he were here," Jake asked, quietly.

The sadness on his face tugged at her heartstrings, and she hated herself so much in that moment. This new secret—prickled like needles across her skin, before burrowing deep within to twist all her insides into knots. She knew what was at stake. Jason—her Jason, didn't go into too much details, but had conveyed enough that this crisis was more dangerous than any others they had faced. Enemies that had ruined lives before, coming back like unwelcomed ghosts. New enemies that lingered like a shadow, just out of the peripheral vision.

She was put in the awkward position since everyone believed Drew Cain, formerly Jake Doe, was Jason. It would be a disaster to let Jake get too attached to Drew, with all the issues that he faced after being held captive by Helena all those years. It took so much for Jake to bond with people, especially adults. If she allowed Jake, or any of her children, to get attached to Drew, and then Jason came back…

Elizabeth knew what it was like to feel abandoned, to have her entire world flipped upside down, and she would have given anything to keep her kids from feeling a single ounce of that. She threaded her fingers through her hair, and she then moved the basket of laundry to the end of the bed. "Come here and seat," she said, after taking a seat on the edge of the mattress.

Jake plopped on the bed beside her, after releasing a heavy sigh.

"I know that you want your father around, and there is nothing wrong with that. Things are…really difficult for your father right now." Elizabeth wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him to her side. "It is really complicated."

"Because of Sam?" asked Jake, sullenly.

"That…is one thing," she replied, after a long pause. Her youngest boy was intuitive and had picked up on the tense vibes, between her and Sam. "He is very confused right now. Jake Doe doesn't even know who he is. He doesn't—he is stranded, in a maze and there are all these people, telling him that they have all the answers. He is being pulled in so many different directions, and what he needs now more than ever, is time."

"And you don't want to be another voice, pulling him in the wrong direction," Jake concluded, with a shrewd gaze.

Elizabeth smiled, fondly. "Have I ever told you that you are so smart?"

The dour expression on her son's face was broken by a shy, little smile. She swept him into her arms, holding him gently. "I promise that things won't always be so confusing, and that your father loves you very much. Never doubt that," she told him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his forehead. "Now, please, go have fun. This is our home and it should be filled with laughter, okay?"

"Okay," Jake promised, slipping out of her hold.

She watched him wander out of the room, and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. There were tears that seemed to sit there, just on the edge of her vision and she blinked them away with a sniffle. A little knock at the doorway made her life her eyes off the floor, and she saw Laura standing there with a plate of food in hand.

"Penny for your thoughts? Or perhaps, a peanut and butter sandwich instead of a penny?" Laura "I remember that it was your favorite."

"You didn't have to do that," Elizabeth said. She felt a small smile break across her face, feeling touched by Laura's small and simple kindness.

"I didn't have to, but I wanted to." Laura set the plate on the large cedar hope chest at the foot of the bed. "I enjoy taking care of the people I love. Makes me feel useful in my dotage," she said, with a twinkle in her eyes. "You've always been family to me, and I have seen you as a daughter. I haven't always been the best to you, especially when Lucky had just come back from the dead—"

"Oh, Laura, that is water under the bridge," Elizabeth stated, soothingly.

"I know that you've forgiven me, but I haven't quite forgiven myself. I was so wrapped in keeping monster like Helena away that I forget to hold my son, and it hurt to look at him because he was virtually a stranger," Laura commented, with a trembling smile. "Luke and I were so desperate for a cure, to make Lucky himself again, and we placed that on your shoulders. It was unfair of us to do that because it wasn't your burden. You had grieved Lucky, and were ready to move on, and we pulled you back. Tried to fit you into a box that you couldn't fit in anymore, and I will always—always regret doing that to you. It was cowardly, and—"

"Laura, we all made choices back then that we would take back given a second chance." Elizabeth didn't harbor any negative feelings towards Laura, or Luke for everything that happened back then. She had been complacent in the mess, and after having children of her own, she knew the desperation for them to just be alright. She was in a better place now and had a chance with the man she loved more than life. As for Lucky, he was on the other side of the world in search of whatever he couldn't find in Port Charles and that was perfectly fine by her. "All the mistakes, all the heartache, all of it led us to here. And here isn't a half-bad place from where I am standing."

"It is a pretty good place," Laura agreed, smiling. "Is everything alright with Jake? I saw him leaving from here, and he had this pensive little look on his face. That is if you don't mind my asking."

"I don't mind. It is just…" Elizabeth sighed, deeply. "He wants to spend time with Jason."

"It is ideal for both parents to be involved in a child's life," Laura commented, softly. There was no judgment on her face. There was just naked concern, and a hint of curiosity.

"I know…I know that, but—" Elizabeth cut off, looking away.

Laura frowned. "Elizabeth, what is wrong? Is it what Epiphany said about Sam—"

"No, it isn't that." Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm not going to deny Sam is always going to be an issue where Jason and I are concerned. She could never stand the thought of me being a part of Jason's life, even before I got pregnant with Jake. And I know she will see Jason bonding with his son as a threat, but that's…that's not—that's not why I am worried."

"Then what is the reason you are so concerned?" asked Laura.

Elizabeth dropped the towel that she was trying to fold. Her brows crinkled together while she clenched and unclenched her jaw, and she threaded her fingers through her hair. "I'm just concerned because—" She blew out a hard breath and felt her heart twist her chest.

She couldn't tell the truth. It wasn't her truth to tell and she didn't want to get Laura mixed up in everything. Laura had just married Kevin and was running for mayor. After years of being locked away in Shadybrooke and locked in her own mind, Laura was finally getting her life together and Elizabeth didn't want to put her in position that could jeopardize all of that.

"I just don't want Jason to bail out. I mean, he did it before," said Elizabeth. The lie tasted like ashes and regret burned in the back of her throat because know she knew that Jason had never really given up on them, but not everyone knew that. And it was the easiest way to explain her newfound fears on Jake getting close to Ja—_Drew_. "He proposed to me and took it back. And the kids—the kids were young enough to not really remember that. Cameron has vague memories, but Jake has no recollection of any of the times that Jason got be a dad to him. Emily hadn't been born yet, so she never had a chance to know Jason or get attached."

"And the kids are old enough now to remember things more clearly," Laura said, softly.

"And they—they will remember a lot more," Elizabeth said, around the knot in her throat. She looked away from Laura unable to look her in the eye any longer and wiped away the gathering tears before they could roll down her cheeks. She sniffled, picking up a sweater out of the hamper and folded it with more care than needed. "Cameron, he is strong and stubborn. Emily is so resilient and can bounce back from literally anything. But Jake…Jake is struggling. Even before the break-in, Jake has been struggling but he was getting better. He was doing better, being more open and less afraid. And now this happened, and I'm just so afraid for him. I don't want to lose him again."

Laura absorbed that, giving a small nod. "I can see why that would be a concern, but if you want my honest opinion, right now what I think you need…is to relax. Get some sleep and put any and all worries out of you head for right now," the older woman stated, with a genially smile. "You have been running off of fumes for hours now."

"A good night sleep sounds like heaven," whispered Elizabeth.

Laura smiled at her, and then took the sweater out of her hands, dropping it back into the basket. "Why don't you go lay down?" she asked. "The kids are having a blast with Felix and Lucas, and I will be here to help them out if they run into snags along the way."

"I really don't—"

"Nonsense." Laura hushed her. "You worked a full shift and then had a very long night, on top of a huge scare. You need to get some rest. It is alright to take a moment for yourself, you know that, right?"

"I know that. I just—it just helps to keep busy." Elizabeth ran her fingers through her hair. Her expression twisted with misery and sorrow glinted in her blue eyes. "I just wish that things weren't so hectic or disaster, and that there was some easy way to make everything right again."

Laura chuckled, quietly. "You are used to being the helper, the one who runs to fix problems and help others. You are so used to giving and giving, taking so little for yourself that you are used to figuring out your own problems by yourself. It is hard to ask for help when that is all you have known," she stated, with a sad smile. "The weight of the world is not your responsibility. You have a home, and you have your children, and as for everything else? It will work itself out, and if doesn't? Well, that is what you have a group of people, a little mismatched family that has you back."

Tears sprang to her eyes, unbidden. Her parents hadn't been in her life since she was fourteen, her relationship with them was non-existent. Sarah had been civil to her for a few months after she moved halfway across the country, but as always followed their parents' example, and faded out of her life like a ghost. Her relationship with her grandmother, Audrey and her brother, Steve was ambivalent at best. It always hinged on whether or not, they approved of her life and decisions. Needlessly to say after she left "poor Lucky" in the dust, Elizabeth barely saw or talked to them.

It didn't hurt like it used to, but there were moments where it bothered her. She had no father to look up to, no mother to talk to, no grandmother to hold her, and no siblings to tease her. She never got the traditional family experience, and that's why she fought so hard to give her children the stability that she had lacked growing up.

But she wasn't alone.

Elizabeth had friends who were more family to her than anyone she shared blood with, and in the next few months, she knew that she was going to need their strength behind her to pull through it all. "That means more to me than you know," Elizabeth whispered, with a fragile smile.

* * *

**END OF THE CHAPTER!**

Author's Note: I promise you that every character plot and the entire canvas is interwoven. There isn't a character that I've shown that won't have some part of it in the overall story, big or small. If recognize some of the dialogue it is because that I do use the transcripts of 2015, (occasionally 09-12), as reference for certain parts of the story. I heavily edit them because I'm not writing a book of the show, but doing a fanfiction after all, but just wanted people to know. I will remark on what episodes I use in Author's Notes. I like reading over the scripts because it helps me get a feel for certain characters, too. It also helps me think of how I envision certain characters like Liz reply, instead of just taking a bashing.

1.) Felix and Lucas should have been together. While I like the actor who plays Brad, the fact that Lucas chose Brad over a catch like Felix bugs me. Lucas/Felix forever!

2.) Aimee's Story—there were three different people who were written to show up at her doorstep, but I didn't want to give too much away about her past just yet. Claudette was a character who had been on the show and was ambiguous enough to help tie Aimee into the canvas. (In my head, Claudette is played by Katherine Heigl.) Aimee is computer programmer, if anyone wondered about her job.

3.) Sonny being shot and protecting TJ—I don't really remember this story because after the Lie, I stopped watching everyday because I knew they were gearing up to throw Elizabeth under the bus again. I am not sure why TJ was being kidnapped, or how Sonny got involved, so I changed it. We know Jordan worked undercover, somebody wanted to get back at her and had a dirty cop attack TJ. Sonny stopped it and Jake Doe saved Sonny, as in the canon of the show.


	6. Chapter 6

I want to thank, Bryantk82, Jmmartinez, ERCommandoTwilight, Twisted Musalih, trini12180, babeboo1968, RobJas, arcoiris0502, mif456, notenoughlove, killianariel18100, shermi, Wonderwomom, diamond2225leo, ghfan51184, lita4277, Bettyboop48748, Liasonfan75, 1bree, Meghie03, Shadow2485, brae76, jhplug, starlight guardian, IHEARTPADF00T, THEfictionfanatic, liasamccool388 for the favs.

I want to thank, Bryantk82, DisneyPrincess1986, Jmmartinez227129, kcke2pen, lsmalltown8, ERCommandoTwilight, Keoje3530, aphass, leeleelaya5, trini12180, ReedBrenda75, babeboo1968, Starbright62, LiasonFan50, RobJas, mif456, notenoughlove, shermi, Liason4220, Kimora J, arcoiris0502, Wonderwomom, diamond2225leo, ghfan51184, Fancyxo, byland, Mirage Rules, Liasonfan75, 1bree, Shadow2485, brae76, rebates912, sashahailee, bjq, jhplug, starlight guardian, FallenWings8Tears, SPEEDIE22, mgrand11 and lisamccool388, Marie567, beachanita for the follows.

I want to thank, trini12180, Jmmartinez227129, arcoiris0502, fundays, bjq, Guest, for the reviews!

Guest Reviews:

Guest: Thank you so much! A LOT is happening, but it is all connected. Amelia was a character that I loved so much and was so underrated on the show. Ross is an interesting character, that is all I am going to say. Leisel is fun to write, and I attribute that to the actress, and yes, anyone who doesn't worship at Sam's feet always gets a bonus point. Liz's conversation does have a lot of truth about her fears of abandonment, and even though a lot of what Jason did was actual Drew, and not Jason, there was a lot that Liason has to work out and discuss. That is a spot on assessment of Carly! Yeah, a Lucky mention. How it plays out you will have to see. Claudette isn't Aimee's blood sister. Originally I was going to have her be, but I think I edited. I'll go back and check. But they do have a history and yep, Claudette certainly brought some trouble down.

Songs of the Chapters:

"Things We Lost in the Fire" by Bastille

Author's Note: I changed Ross' accent to Irish from British because I heard a man talk in an Irish accent the other day, and whew…*fans self* so I decided to make a change. ;P

* * *

**Chapter Six**

—**chapter theme song**—

—_"The Cave" _**by Mumford and Sons**—

* * *

Sam paced the length of the office, a shrewd gaze passed over all the diplomas and achievements hung up on the wall. It made her stomach curdled, with jealousy. She had been a smart kid, so good with numbers and math. She could have skipped a few grades, but her conman of a father forced them to jump from place to place, and she couldn't keep with all the changes. There were moments when her conscious asked her what she would have become, if she had blossomed in a more stable environment. She had learned long ago that having a conscious was a weakness, and besides, she had come to enjoy the thrill of danger. It was addicting to make a man want her and leaving him blindsides was just icing on the cake.

Port Charles had caused to hit a snag. She had let herself get played by Sonny, letting herself develop feelings for the selfish bastard. A manipulator of a far higher caliber, but that wasn't to say she regretted Sonny. Oh, no, she didn't regret it at all. If it hadn't been for the affair with Sonny, she would have never fallen into Jason's orbit. And Jason was everything to her.

"Sam?"

"Oh, hi." Sam tittered, slightly startled. She had been so lost inside of her head that she hadn't even realized Monica was standing there at the door. "I am so sorry. I was lost in my own world there for a second."

"I completely understand. I've done my fair share of woolgathering," Monica replied, with an easy smile. Curiosity and concern crinkled around the edges of her eyes, and she stepped further into the room to shut the door behind her. "Is there something wrong? Is it Jason?"

"No, no, nothing like that. In fact, if I am being optimistic," Sam said, clasping her hands together while a big smile stretched across her face, "I would say everything is going right with Jason right now. He had a memory—well, a flash of a memory about us on a date."

"Oh, my." Monica practically beamed, her eyes shining with joy. "Well, that is wonderful to hear. I must admit that I was hoping he would start to remember. I…I thought about talking to him, but I find myself saying too much or too little to Jason. It makes things awkward and uncomfortable, and I played a part in driving him away once…" Her voice trailed off, and a shade of sorrow passed over her features.

"And you don't want to do that again," Sam said, softly.

"That to this day is still one of my biggest regrets," the older woman whispered.

Sam bit her lower lip, restlessly shifting on the balls of her feet. "I know that you are walking on eggshells around Jason, but I was hoping to persuade you to maybe have dinner with Jason and me. This…this is a second chance," she responded, in earnest. Her dark eyes . "I think we should all put our best foot forward with Jason. We might not be able to get back the time that we lost, but we could make the time we have now count."

"I suppose that you have a point," Monica conceded, after a long moment. "I just don't want to push—"

"You won't," Sam reassured her, kindly.

"Perhaps, I am over thinking this," Monica said.

Dismay twisted upon her features, and Monica pressed her fingers to her mouth. She walked over to her desk where she had several pictures of her family members, and she locked eyes with Jason when he was a teenager. It was taken shortly before the car accident that had changed everything. "Jason and I were on good terms before he died—stolen, before he was _stolen _out of our lives. I have spent so many years on the outside of his life, and I do not want him to think that my reluctance to approach him is malicious in intent," she explained, her voice trembled.

Sam sighed. "Monica, he knows that."

"I am sure he does, but like I said, I tend to over think things," Monica replied, with a weary chuckle. She opened her mouth to speak further when the pager on her belt went off. She unclasped it and brought it up to read the number, and she let out a mute groan. "I have to take this. I am so sorry to cut this so short, but I am sure you are happy to not have me rambling on at you."

Sam shook her head. "You don't have to apologize. I should have waited until you were off work to come by and talk. And no, you were not rambling," she said, with a small giggle.

"No, I am glad that you came by to ask. Thank you for thinking of me," the doctor stated, genuinely touched that Sam had been so thoughtful. "I will let you know when I have the time to do the dinner, if that is alright with you?"

"Sounds wonderful."

Sam left the office with a sense of accomplishment warm inside of her. There was almost a skip in her step, she was so pleased with herself. Elizabeth Webber might be playing it safe, pretending to be the _oh, so innocent _friend, but Sam could do anything she could do _better_. She would make Jason feel safe and comfortable, showing him bit by bit that she is the only one who understands him. Monica would also slip about Carly and Sonny; her hatred for them too strong to ignore completely.

It could drive a wedge between Jason and the two, which also helped Sam in the long run. She was tired of sharing her life with ghosts and shadows. She had to share her childhood with Danny, who spent his entire life with one foot in the grave and had all their parents' attention. The only time her parents noticed her was when they needed her to do something for her brother. She was the older sibling and yet she grew up in _his_ shadow. All the years she spent as a con-artist, to prove that she was just as clever and resourceful as her dad, and all that had been for Danny.

Even after all this time, she still felt the anger boiling up inside of her. And then the men—then men that she let into her bed, always moon eyed over some damsel in distress. For Jax, it was Brenda. The beautiful princess that fled the town and broke a million hearts on the way out. For Sonny, it was Carly. The volatile woman acted like she could conquer the world, but when the world got tough, she went crying to Sonny or Jason to help clean up her mess. For Jason and even Lucky, it was Elizabeth. Saintly, perfect Elizabeth who could do no wrong. She was as innocent as the untouched snow and tricked me into playing hero to save her.

But Jason was a blank canvas. He had a fresh start, and if Sam could reclaim her spot in his heart, before anyone else could edge into it. No matter what he would remember, the love between them would be strong to withstand it all. And Jason wasn't like Jax or Sonny, because he _saw _her. He didn't look through her like she was less than a person, or an object. He saw a person worth something, and that was something that she never had in her life before him.

She had almost screwed that up once because a certain nurse decided to take advantage of a tough time for her and Jason, but she wasn't about to let that happen again. It was her time to be happy, and—

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she apologized, when she ran into a doctor. Her eyes flew up and she nearly groaned at her rotten luck. She had walked straight into Steven Webber of all people.

"Oh, it's you," Steven said, unenthused.

"What a greeting," Sam replied, infusing her smile with ice. It always raised her hackles, the way that he treated her as if she were the scum on the bottom of his shoe. It shouldn't be surprising, since he was Saint Lizzie's brother and the apple doesn't fall from the Holier Than Thou tree. "Do you have a problem with me, or something?"

Steven raised a brow at her. "What do you think?"

Sam put up a front of patience. "I'm not sure why you want to be an asshole to me. If this is about Elizabeth—" she spoke, attempting to play peacekeeper. She was aware of Steven's dislike of Jason, and never knew when she needed another person to drive the wedge deeper between Elizabeth and Jason.

"It is about your husband who has no business being around my sister," Steven interrupted, sharply.

"Jason is only around Elizabeth for Jake's sake," Sam countered, in a terse tone of voice. The vein at her temple throbbed, and she rolled her jaw in annoyance. "You are blowing Elizabeth and Jason's friendship out of proportion. You've jumped to the wrong conclusion."

"I saw and heard it with my own eyes. Just yesterday in the hospital hallway, Jason told Elizabeth that he wanted to be with her." Steven angled his head, viewing her with a glower. He watched as his callous admission tore deep into Sam. "Your marriage doesn't concern my sister, but Jason is dragging her into it."

Denials bubbled up her throat, like thick and gooey molasses. Sam was rooted the spot, with a shaking hand placed over her heart. The urge to scream and lash out burned in her blood, boiling up inside of her until she was red in the face.

"Oh, please. Don't act like Elizabeth is some innocent," she spat out, with an angry shrill. "She has always been after Jason. Always panting after him and trying to insert herself in my life!"

Steven jabbed a finger in her direction, his eyes narrowed into slits. "I'll admit that my sister isn't objective when it comes to Jason," he hissed out, the muscle at his jawline jumped erratically, "but what I won't do is have you sit here and badmouth her. Don't act like my sister has been constantly out to sabotage your perfect little world, when your fairytale is just a sham. Jason left her to go back to you, and she never got close to him again, until Jake Doe came to town. Whatever issues you had in your marriage that caused it to fall apart before Jason's supposed death, you don't get to lay them at my sister's feet."

"She is certainly meddling now," Sam stated, barely recognizing her own voice. It was dark and ugly, filled with the most bitter part of her soul.

"Then I guess you better start fighting for your marriage before it's too late," Steven told her, a mocking smile set on his lips. He brushed past her, dismissing her existence and strode back into his daily routine like he hadn't just up ended her life with his cruel words.

_His words meant nothing, _Sam thought, releasing a long, rattled sigh. _He doesn't know what he is talking about._

And yet those words settled like a cold stone sank into the pit of her gut.

* * *

A restless night had done nothing but fuel the storm cloud brewing in Tracy Quartermain's heart. She had laid awake, tossing and turning, trying to find sleep. The anger churning in her stomach was too hot and vicious, and instead, she started crafting her retaliation against Ross Sheppard. His _'butter wouldn't melt in his mouth' _attitude might fool some people, but Tracy had dealt with a spectrum of different types of people in her years as a businesswoman. She had seen the earnest and hardworking, naively thinking that they could change the world with kindness. She had seen the ruthless and the greed, eating away at every good thing. And she had seen men with darker hearts than any monster dreamed up in a fairytale.

Ross Sheppard had darkness in his heart. It was hidden beneath a charismatic and handsome veneer, but Tracy had seen only one other person that set her on edge like that. It was a distant memory that she hadn't wanted to think about, or stir up in the slightest; just the smidge of time that she allowed herself to dwell upon it had caused her heart to feel shredded up as if it had been put into a blender.

With a shake of her head, she dashed those unhelpful thought away. She paced the length of the floor in front of the fireplace, with her hand on her chin and her brows scrunched together thoughtfully. She had gotten the best lawyer money could afford—Diane Miller, despite her reservations—to wade through every and any scrap of paperwork related to the sell of ELQ property. If there was a decent Private Eye in this damn city, she would have them spy on Ross Sheppard and wait for the bastard to slip up in some way. And no, she wasn't about to hire Sam McCall.

She was not _that _desperate.

A light rap at the door made her turn around, and she arched a brow in surprise at the guest who stood uncertainly upon the threshold. "And to what do I owe the honor of a visit from the illustrious Laura Spencer?" asked Tracy, in a mild tone. Her and Laura had once been bitter rivals for Luke Spencer's affections, but that was a time long since passed.

"I am not sure that I live up to that title," Laura said, with a good-natured chuckle. She folded her coat over her arm, and stepped further into the room, encouraged by the rather warm welcome. Well, as warm as Tracy could give. "I love what you've done with the place. Lila would have loved it."

At the mention of Lila, Tracy seemed to soften with love and fondness. "She would have, wouldn't she?" she said, a gleam of pride in her eyes.

The walls had been softened to an off-white color, to make the room bright and feel more open rather than dark and dreary. Silvery draped with flower patterns covered the windows, with a thin and sheer under curtain. The hardwood floors were stained a dark, cheery red and the grey stone, and now electric, fireplace was the center piece of the room. A picture of Edward and Lila sat on the center of the mantle, in its rightful place. All the Christmas trappings and decoration made the room jolly and festive.

"But décor is hardly why you've come to talk to me," Tracy spoke up, after a wistful silence. She scrutinized the blond, then gestured for her to take a seat on the sectional. "What do you want?"

Laura set on the edge of the couch, a bit nervously. "No, that isn't why I am here. You know, I don't think I have ever thanked you for all you did for Lulu. You helped raise my daughter into a wonderful and independent woman," Laura commented, with a smile. "That is a debt that I can never hope to repay."

Tracy looked uncomfortable, not used to kind words. "Well, I love Lulu like she is my own," she said, softly. She walked around the side of the couch, to join her friend. She wouldn't admit that Laura had become a friend to her out loud. She was stubborn as a mule when it came to sentimentality, having been raised to view it as a weakness.

"And she loves you like a mother," Laura replied. "That's why I was hoping that you could get through to her in a way that I seem to be unable to."

Tracy sighed, sitting down and folding her hands into her lap. "How much trouble has she gotten herself into this time? Use her father as a scale to be measured by."

"It isn't so much that Lulu is in trouble, but I feel that she is setting herself up for some trouble," Laura said, with an uncertain smile. She released a long, hearty sigh and the taut line of her shoulders relaxed just a fraction. "I know that Lulu has had trouble with Dante's infidelity."

"And she rightly should," Tracy interjected.

"Yes. She has every right to feel betrayed and hurt, and I will not invalidate her feelings by saying she shouldn't. I just…she got back together with Dante and seemed so earnest about wanting to make things work," Laura explained, with helpless frustration. "But she hasn't forgiven him. Not really, or she wouldn't be making him constantly jump through hoops. She wouldn't be playing with Dillion's heart."

Tracy shifted, uneasily. Dillion hadn't been receptive to her trying to make amends for being so controlling and judgmental. It had been the way she was raised, and she had become the worsts parts of her father for quite some time. She was trying to do better, to let go of the reins and accept whatever choices her children made.

"I know that Lulu and Dillion have been working closely for the Crimson magazine," Tracy responded, with a pinched expression. "I hadn't realized that they had gotten so close to upset Lulu's marriage."

"She is no longer living at home," Laura said. "She is living out of a hotel room."

"Dear God." Tracy closed her eyes, rubbing the ridge of her brow and her lips thinned out into a straight line. "I can't imagine what they are thinking."

"Lulu and Dillion were close once. It started for all the wrong reasons, but I do believe that they shared a genuine connection. It isn't easy to feel like the black sheep of the family." Laura gave a small shrug of her shoulder and ran a hand down the side of her face. "Lulu had someone reliable and steady in Dante, until he wasn't."

"He was her hero," Tracy commented, lightly. "She put him on the pedestal that knocked her father off years ago. That makes it harder to forgive, because once you put someone up so high, it hurt so much when they fall, and all those expectations come crashing down."

"Yes…yes, it does."

"Dillion is familiar. Someone who has made a wealth of mistakes, just like Lulu herself," Tracy reasoned, with a weary frown. "She knows that she doesn't have to be perfected or expect perfect from him in order to be with him."

"Dante never wanted Lulu to be perfect," Laura replied.

Tracy nodded, in agreement. "No, he took Lulu for who she was. It was Lulu who wanted to be perfect, because she felt, perhaps, undeserving of his love," she said, toying with the ring on her finger idly. The situation reminded her of time in Greece, where summer love had been found next to the sea and lost so quickly to be truly cherished. She cleared her throat, blinking her eyes rapidly. "I'll talk to Lulu. Have a heart to heart, though I don't know what much it will do. If you couldn't get through to her, I don't know how you expect me to."

Laura chuckled, softly. "Lulu has always seen me through rose colored glasses. She romanticizes things about my life, I think in order to deal with them. She doesn't take my advice, because she thinks that I can't fully relate to what is going on in her life."

"You've been through more ups and downs than anyone else in Port Charles," Tracy stated, dryly. "If anyone can understand the crazy and maddening drama that infects this town, it is you."

"I think that's a compliment," Laura said, head tilted.

"If that's how you want to see it."

The two shared a laugh, and then Laura sighed. "Well, I won't take up anymore of your time. I know that you have your hands full with the Nutcracker Gala and everything else," the blond said, not mentioning the 'everything else' related to Nikolas's trial.

It was difficult for Laura to talk about, and Tracy wouldn't bring it up. If one of her sons had done such a thing, she wouldn't want to talk about it either. She watched Laura rise to her feet and head towards the door, when she felt a question swell up inside of it. It was a question that was always there in the back of her mind, a little whisper that she couldn't dispel.

"Laura," she called out, halting the blond at the door. She climbed to her feet when Laura turned back around with a curious look on her face. "Can I ask you a personal question, and feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but why did you get involved with Luke?"

"After what he did to me?" Laura asked, with a humorless smile.

Tracy inclined her head slightly. "Yes."

Laura drew in a deep breath and clasped her hands in front of her. "If you asked me a few years back if I understood why I allowed Luke close, or allowed myself to love him, I wouldn't have a good answer for you other than that he was a good man despite the bad things he once did. And while there is a kernel of truth in that, it still doesn't quite explain it," she replied, with a hitch in her voice. She cleared her throat, picking imaginary lint off her coat. She gathered her thoughts while she walked over to the double glass doors on the far side of the room that gave a view of the terrace. The rose garden was withered and barren this time of year. "I don't want to disparage Luke or how far he has come as a person, because he isn't that man anymore. He knows how wrong and horrible that was now, and that is something he carries constantly, and he should. He should have to carry that because _I_ do."

If Tracy was startled by the vehemence in Laura's words, she did not show it.

"And I did come to love Luke, as he grew into that better person. But—" Laura felt a bad taste swell in the back of her throat. Her life and relationship with Luke would always bring up a mixture of emotions that were so entangled that she still had trouble understanding to this very day. "But it wasn't why I chose to be around him, in the beginning. It was a need to normalize something that wasn't normal. A need to take back control and cope with a moment where I was completely helpless. I dissociated from the assault. I romanticized my relationship with Luke to make it seem not as bad or as ugly as it was. It has taken a lot of therapy to face this truth. And…"

"And?" asked Tracy, quietly.

"I'll never regret my children. I love my kids, for all their faults and drama," Laura replied, with a tight-lipped smile. "But if Luke were to come back into town and want me to be with him…I just couldn't do it. Knowing what I do now and reconciling my past, I realized how toxic we were for each other. We were a house of cards, just one good wind from caving in. A lot of people saw it for what it was…Scotty, Bobbie, Helena, even you."

"Laura, I—" Tracy spoke, around the knot in her throat.

"It's okay, Tracy. It's fine. I've had a lot of time to come to grips with my past, the good and the bad and the ugly." She lingered there with a broken expression, before she pulled her coat on and walked back towards the exit. "I'm honestly a bit envious of you."

Tracy's brows shot upward. "Why?"

"You got to know the best parts of Luke. You knew his history, yes, but you—you knew that Luke was bigger than his mistakes and was able to see past all his flaws to love him in a way that made him a better version of himself," Laura responded, honestly. She used her hands to rub tears from her cheeks. "I am happy for that, because he was a big part of my life and the father of my children."

Tracy frowned, deeply. "You just wish he could have been a better man sooner."

"I do. I really do." Laura nodded. "I know Luke's circumstances weren't ideal growing up, and that he has a lot of demons, and it was a different time—women were seen more as objects, less like people—but for all the justifications that you could give for what he did, it is something that was unforgivable. You can't forgive or forget, just move forward. And that's what I intend to do," she said, very firmly. "I intend to move forward and stop trying to rewrite the past to something better."

"I wonder if moving forward is what I need to do," Tracy commented, her tone uncharacteristically soft.

"From Luke?" asked Laura.

"From a lot of things, not just Luke." Tracy swiped a hand across her weary brow, and there was a defeated slump to her shoulders that was wholly uncharacteristic of her. "I am not a person that gives up easily. I don't sway from my path, on another person's say so. It wasn't how I was raised, and it is not how I have lived. I just wonder, sometimes, if I had been more willing to bend—been more open to compromise, if I wouldn't be here in this house, virtually alone and isolated from everyone else."

"You aren't alone," Laura said, trying to ease the other's woman pain. "There is Monica—"

"Because Monica is my biggest fan." Tracy scoffed, with a roll of her eyes. "Living with Monica is like living with a ghost. I will always look at her and remember Alan, and Emily, my parents, even AJ springs to mind. Some days, I just want to put all the ghosts to rest. Other days…"

"They are the only friends you have," Laura said, understandingly.

* * *

Her footsteps echoed like heartbeats down the boulevard, Aimee pulled her scarf around her throat to protect her sensitive ears from the chill. She pulled out her keys and tried not to look too closely at the festive holiday decorations all over the city. Her heart was heavy for sorrow when this time of the year swept through because it only reminded her that there would be no one at home for her to spend Christmas with. No tree or decoration, just her and the four walls of her home.

Not that her biological family was exactly people that she wanted to be around, but there was a homesickness swept through her. Strange since she never really had a place that she called home. She had a house, but not a home. She shifted the shopping bag on her arm, and her sigh tumbled off her mouth in a cloud of fog. She knew that her friends would extend her invitations, if they knew that she didn't have anyone to spend the holidays with.

Aimee just didn't want to feel like unwanted tag along. She had been made to feel that way so many times in her life that she could shake the anxiety and doubts that whispered in her head. Snowflakes created a crown on top of her head, and her teeth chattered together nosily. Besides, the last thing she needed to worry about was holiday plans. The ghosts of her past were showing up just in time for Christmas, though the tale would not nearly have a heart warming ending like the Dicken's story.

She entered Kelly's restaurant. The place more of a ghost town nowadays, but the quality of food was still good, and they had the best tea. It was a quite place with good atmosphere and nice people, so it was one of the few places that she could sit down and relax in public. A blond woman came storming into the door behind her and bumped into her shoulder.

"Sorry. Excuse me," Aimme apologized, on reflex.

The blond let out a huff, marching up to the counter and placed her oversized handbag on it with a loud thud. It sounded like it weighed a ton. "I need two coffee, a number four with no onions and a number eleven, with extra mayo," she ordered, barely waiting for the girl at the counter to get out the pen and paper to write everything down.

It was the tone of voice that caught Aimee's attention, and she did a double take, realizing it was the one and only Carly Corinthos. There wasn't a soul in Port Charles that didn't know who the disaster of a woman was, and the horror stories that Elizabeth had confided in her didn't paint the image any prettier.

"It'll be a ten-minute wait on the fries," the barista informed her.

"That's fine," Carly replied, dropping into a chair. "I can wait."

The barista turned to put the order in the kitchen window, and Aimee stepped up to the counter. The motion drew the attention of Carly who had been pulling out sunglasses, lotion and everything under the sun out of her purse in search of her wallet.

Carly looked at her with brow furrowed. "I am sorry, do I know you? You seem familiar," she said.

"We've never met personally, no," Aimee replied, evasively.

"Are you sure?" Carly asked, with a light chuckle. "I can't explain why, but there is something strangely familiar about you."

"I am a friend of Elizabeth's," she responded. "That's probably why I look familiar."

The last thing she needed was for this blond to go digging into her past.

"Ah," Carly said. The expression on her face shifted, a tad more reserved than it had been only moments before. After successfully finding her wallet, she started gathering up the rest of the items she had taken out and putting them back into her purse. "I wasn't aware that Elizabeth still had any friends, other than the ones that are forced to work with her."

"Okay. If you'll excuse me." Aimee turned her attention to the barista who had returned and ordered the honey, lemon tea. She pulled out her wallet to pay for the drink, feeling the blonde's stare burning a hole in the back of her skull. When the barista walked away from the counter to make the drink since she was the only working, since the restaurant was practically dead. "Is there something you need?" she asked.

Carly pounced on the question, like a leopard on a gazelle. "Look, I feel that is only fair to warn you, but being friends with Elizabeth Webber will bring you nothing but trouble. I'm just saying a lot of people that get close to her, either flee town or ends up dead," the blond told her, with feigned concern. "I have seen way too many people fall prey to her emotional manipulations."

It was unsettling how the blond was seemed to be bursting at the seams to bad mouth and trash Elizabeth to anyone. Aimee did not know if it was jealousy, insecurity or both that spurned on the blonde's slander, but it just left her with a bad taste in her mouth. She had thought that shallow and one-dimensional people only existed in books, or bad tv shows as cannon fodder to move the plot along. It was startling to realize this kind of people really did exist in real life.

Aimee put the change back into her purse, and then turned to face Carly. "Look, I don't know you from Adam. What I do know is that you have a long and frankly ugly history with Elizabeth, so I can only imagine that anything that comes out of your mouth is biased," she replied, with a brittle smile. "So, you are going to have to forgive me, but I don't think I am going to take your advice."

Carly wrinkled her nose in distaste. All traces of civility slid off into a cold, haughtiness. "Ah, so you are one of those type."

"One of those types?" she asked, with an eyebrow arched.

"The kind of woman that sits high on her lofty, moral perch to pass judgment on others," Carly sneered, glaring at Aimee. "Let me tell you something, you holier than thou types are a dime a dozen."

She had to laugh because the sheer audacity of this woman was ridiculous and utterly unbelievable. The barista called her name, and she picked up her tea up from the counter. "You know, there was a part of me that believed that all the stories about you were exaggerated or overdramatic. Now I can see that they were far too kind," Aimee responded, with a saccharine smile.

She walked away, and she knew the only reason the blond didn't chase her down, was because an older red-headed woman in nurses' scrubs aught her attention. Initially she wanted to sit in the café and read a little bit of literature to relax. That would be impossible now, given that interaction that was a borderline spat. She ducked out the door to face the brisk cold, sipping gingerly on her piping hot tea. She cut across the road and into the park, before finding a bench just in front of the lake.

The trees and shrubbery kept the wind at bay, so she could have a few moments to soak in the serenity. She pulled out her book from her purse, and cracked it open in one hand. About ten minutes passed by, her eyes were scanning the lines of the poem when all the hair on the nape of her neck stood upon end. She craned her head about to look around but spotted no one.

It was disconcerting feeling of eyes fixated on her from somewhere she couldn't see. She shut her book and rose up off the bench, swallowing thickly. "I am losing my mind," she said, underneath her breath.

Aimee made her way hastily to the park entrance and wasn't looking where she was going. She slammed into what felt like a brick wall. Her drink and book when flying into the air while she went falling backwards. She clenched her eyes tight and braced herself for a nasty fall, when a hand secured tight around her elbow and an arm slid around her waist pulling her back to safety just in the nick of time.

A breath fluttered out of her when she cautiously cracked her eyes open. She was secured tight to a broad and firm chest, that she could feel beneath the layers of clothing and her heartbeat kicked up a notch. The scent of warm spices and that left her light-headed and giddy feeling, and her eyes lifted upward. Upward from the expensive, wool coat to the strong column of his throat and finally onto the face of a man who put Adonis to shame.

He was easily the most gorgeous man that she had ever seen in her entire life. His hair was raven black and hung around his face in wild waves, and his onyx colored eyes traced her face with deliberate attention that turned her red. He had a long aristocratic nose, up turned at the end and a set of lips that were made for passion. He towered over her, easily at six foot, if she had to guess.

"Oh…" she made a little noise.

"Hello, there. That was almost quite the spill," he stated, with a chuckle.

_Oh, fuck me, he has an accent. An Irish accent with a deep voice, too._ His voice seemed to spread across her skin, warm and sweet as honey. It caused her brain seemed to completely short circuit, and she stood there for a good moment gawking at him, with her fingers clutching the lapels of his jacket like her life depended on it. "I—I am so sorry," she stuttered, her face hot with embarrassment. "I wasn't watching—I can't believe I made such a mess—did I spill any tea on you? I will pay for the dry cleaning bill, I promise—"

"Easy, lass. Not a drop on me," he reassured her. "You came flying out of the park. Did something happen? Do you need any help?"

"No, nothing happened," Aimee replied, breathlessly.

She stepped back from him, when he loosened his grip and let his hand fall away from her waist. He held tight to her elbow, to help steady her as her knees knocked together. She glanced back at the park. It was tranquil and silent, a picture perfect wonderland. The hard knot in her stomach was still there and didn't loosen. "Just…just my imagination getting the better of me, I guess."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You look a little pale."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine. Thanks for catching me," she responded, in a mild tone. "Oh, God, I am such a mess today. Are you sure I didn't get anything on your coat?"

"My coat is perfectly fine. Nothing you need to stress yourself over," he promised.

His mouth lifted on the left side, a glimmer of mirth in his gaze that made her feel like he was quietly laughing at her. Indignation joined the embarrassment that swirled in her chest, like a swarm of angry hornets. Her teeth sank deep into her lower and she dropped her gaze to the ground, feeling her heartbeat pulse wildly in her throat.

"Oh, oh, no," she whispered.

She broke away from his gentle hold and knelt to gather up the cup and plastic lid before it blew off into the wind. She hadn't notice that the man crouched down beside her until a book was dangling right in front of her face. Her hand reached out, grasping the spine of the book. A burst of electricity popped hot in her gut when her fingers brushed across his, and she pulled away hastily, feeling her breath stuttered in her lungs. She felt all kinds of flustered and did not know how to react.

"Oscar Wilde," he commented. "An interesting choice."

"Oh, well, yes. He is a great poet," she replied, glancing down at the book. It was one of the few things that she had from her childhood. "One of my favorites."

The pair of the rose to stand and she shifted on the balls of feet. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Aimee hugged her book close to her chest with one arm. "I, uh, should get going," she said, a little awkwardly.

"Wait. Please let me get you another coffee," he offered, with a charming smile. "There is a restaurant just up the way…"

"Oh, it was tea, but I can't impose," Aimee told him, blushing slightly.

Aimee didn't knot if he was offering because he felt bad, or if he was trying to make a pass at her. She had never had much luck in the romance department, and so her flirting skills—if any existed to begin with—were very much rusty. That didn't stop the pitter patter her heart gave any less present.

"Perhaps, the tea can wait? Have you forgotten the guests that await you at the penthouse?" The advice came from a tall, slim red-headed woman in a professional yet fashionable blue dress. She had a in her hand. She looked up from it long enough to give Aimee a good once over, then back down at the screen.

Aimee hadn't even realized that the other woman stood there, too lost in the man in front of her to see the rest of the world. The two of them were obviously together, that much was clear by the familiarity between them. _What if this was his wife, or girlfriend? _she thought, with mortification hot in her gut. Her mood took a nose drive and what was left of her dignity told her to turn tail and run. Unfortunately, good luck was never her strong suit. She slipped on a patch of fucking ice, and she laid flat on her back, all the driven out of her lungs in one painful blow. Her head smacked into the asphalt hard enough to make her see stars, and she didn't even have enough energy to mutter a curse.

"Shite!"

There was a rush of footsteps and she saw the handsome man, before the world dimmed to black.

* * *

Elizabeth picked up the toys scattered over the couch and put them into the toy box that was sat in the corner of the living room. The kids were officially on Winter Break, so she opted to take a few of her vacation days to spend time at home with them. She might get an earful from Monica at some point or another, but she could care less what that old bat thought at this point. Her children came first and after the break-in scare, she wanted to give them as much reassurance as necessary. She picked up the pillow off the floor and set it on the couch, when someone knocked on her front door.

There was a quiver of apprehension in her stomach at the sound of knocking at her door. She had seldom few friends who were busy, and people who hated her guts that looked for any reason to charge through her door. She ran her fingers through her hair and walked over to the door, pulling it open. A flood of relief poured down over her shoulders when she saw Patrick standing there.

"Hey," she said, with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi. I heard about what happened from Epiphany." He handed her one of the coffees that he had been holding onto, and she took a step back to allow him into the house. "I wanted to drop by before I headed off to work. Is everyone doing alright?"

"Yeah. We are okay. I am so sorry that you found out that way," Elizabeth apologized, in earnest. "I fell asleep yesterday and I was just so tired-and the kids this morning have kept me busy-a"

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You and the kids are safe. That's all that matters. It was good thing that Aimee caught the intruder and scared him off," Patrick responded, frowning deeply. "Did the police catch him?"

"No. They don't have any good leads, either." Elizabeth set the coffee on the table and folded her arms over her chest. "I have lived in fear for months of Nikolas and his lie. He had Hayden Barnes murdered, and threatened my kids...I thought after the truth came out that would be all over."

"It should have never happened," Patrick said.

Elizabeth nodded. "You're right. I just don't know everything turned so wrong. I know that things haven't been great for a while, but I never thought Nikolas would become like his family. I knew that he struggled with this darkness in him, but he had people who brought out the best in him. Emily brought out the light in him," she whispered out. "And when she died..."

"Maybe that was his problem. Nikolas never learned how to fight the dark parts of himself," Patrick suggested. He took a sip of his drink before he sat down in a chair and dragged his free hand through his hair. "He never forged his own moral compass, so when the people he had come to rely on to guide left his life, he didn't even try."

She felt her chin quiver and tears gather in the corners of her eyes. "It was horrible. I stood there and watch Nikolas's demons swallow him whole. I can't believe he is gone," she whispered, softly. "I know that he is still here, physically but—" She blew out a hard breath and wiped the tears away.

His brow crinkled together, and he glanced over at her. "Are you going to his arraignment next week? His lawyer ran out of tricks to delay the inevitable."

"I don't know," Elizabeth agonized, shaking her head back and forth. She sucked in a choppy breath, and then another. "On one hand, I feel that I should. Nikolas held so much power over me, made me feel helpless and scared. I feel like I need to go to take that power back, to shut him out of my life for good."

Patrick arched a brow. "And the other hand?"

"It's going to hurt to see him like that. He was my friend for so long, and the thought of wishing him ill makes me physically sick to my stomach," she admitted, her voice unsteady. Her heart constricted with fresh pain, and she choked it down like shards of glass. "I wish there was more I could have done for him to—to have stop him from becoming so unrecognizable, but the way things escalated over this last year…I can never forgive him for what he did. He threatened _my_ kids, my _whole_ world. He's dead to me."

"There's not a soul that can blame you for that," Patrick replied, quietly.

"Really? Cause there sure seems to be a line of people eager to do just that," she commented, with a dry laugh. "Carly and Sam, to name a couple."

The neurosurgeon couldn't fight the grimace from her, and she felt concern swept through her from head to toe. She walked over and sat down beside him, and her blue eyes searched his face. "Patrick, did something happen with Sam?" she asked.

"We broke up," he said, his chest expanded and then fell sharply. "Ever since Jason's identity became known, there has been this shadow hanging over our entire relationship. She might have been with me, but she wasn't present. Her mind was elsewhere with...with Jason."

She laid a tentative on his hand, comfortingly. She felt queasy with guilt, wishing she had voiced many of her concerns about him getting involved with Sam a year ago. "I'm so sorry. I know that you loved her," she stated, gently.

His dark eyes were glassy, and exhaustion settled upon his brow. "I am not so sure about love. I had a lot of time to think, after Sam had left and I was waiting for that gut-wrenching pain to close in on me. I was waiting to feel something more than just the sting of my pride, and…it never came. I was upset, but I _wasn't_ devastated. I sat down, and I thought about what that meant," he whispered, roughly. "It would be easy, you know, to stand upon a high horse and be all mad and angry at Sam. It would be easy to blame her for our relationship falling apart, but if I did that then I would be the biggest hypocrite."

"What do you mean?" she asked, lightly.

"Sam might have been holding too tight to the past and to Jason, but I hadn't exactly let go of my own past, either," he confessed, with no small amount of guilt. He looked so torn up and conflicted, as if he were about to fall apart at the seams. "I'm not sure I was in love with Sam, so much as I was in love with the distraction she provided. All I have had in the last few years weren't relationships, and I know that sounds horrible, because Sabrina was a good person and Sam was—well, let's not get into that. But the point is, how can I give myself to another person when I've never gotten back my heart? How could I be with someone truly and fully, when I have never gotten over Robin?"

Elizabeth felt her heart shattered in her chest. She remembered how broken and empty Robin had looked the other day, and all that building anger came back, settling white hot in her chest. How much time had been stolen from Robin and Patrick? They had been through as much as she and Jason, and all because some mad scheme by a group of psychotic people. She wanted to break down and tell me everything, especially that Robin hadn't wanted to leave him or Emma behind.

"Sometimes, there is a love that you have with someone that endures," Elizabeth responded, feeling choked up. "You find your soulmate, and nothing can replace that."

"If that were true, then why won't Robin stay?" asked Patrick.

Her gaze caught his and held it. "I know that...that it might be hard to believe it now, but Robin is going to come home. She'll have reasons and give explanations, and it'll be hard to swallow because you'll be anger, so angry," she told him, beseechingly. "But the love you have for each other, will always be stronger than that anger. Just remember that, please?"

There was a hint of confusion in his eyes, but before he could utter a single question, another rap came to her front door. "Expecting someone?" he asked.

"Nope." Elizabeth rose to her feet and padded over to the door. She pulled it open, only to find herself face to face with Drew Cain. Her temples began to pound, and her mouth ran completely dry. "J-Jason, I didn't expect you," she said, startled.

It was difficult to pinpoint what her emotions were in this moment. They were all over the place, ranging from guilt to concern and even a bit of panic. This man already believed she kept the truth about his life from him once, and here she was doing it all over again. He had been nothing but a good man, just caught up in this chaotic disaster like the rest of them.

He smiled. "Hey, I just wanted to drop by. I figured that I would come see the kids since they are on vacation. Is that okay?"

"It's not a really good time, right now. There's a lot going on," Elizabeth replied, antsy.

"Did something happen?" Jason asked, concerned.

Patrick snorted, lifting a dark brow. "Yeah, something happened. Someone tried to break into Elizabeth's house a couple of nights ago."

Jason stiffened, his blue eyes swept from Patrick to Elizabeth. He placed his hands on his hips, and he asked, alarmed, "What? Why didn't you tell me?"

She sighed. "I didn't want you to worry."

"That really isn't up to you to decide. For God's sake, my son lives in this house." He was cut off by the blare of _Star Wars _ringtone. His face twisted with frustration and he muttered unflattering curses underneath his breath. He pulled his cellphone out of his jacket, and checked the Caller ID. "It's Spinelli. I have to take this, but when I get back inside, we are talking about this."

The color of indignation swept up into her cheeks, and she glared at him until he shut the door behind him, taking his call out on the porch. Stiff with fury, Elizabeth turned towards Patrick and warned him, "You might want to run for the hills. I have a feeling that this is going to get ugly, especially if he keeps that condescending tone of his."

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to apologize, Patrick. It's fine, really. He was going to found out soon enough." Elizabeth was sick with panic and guilty, and her throat felt constricted. "I just...I just have a lot on my plate, without adding him to the mix."

"I'm still sorry."

"And I forgive you," Elizabeth promised, smiling. There was little that she wouldn't forgive him for, because Patrick was like a brother to her. "Now, please go."

After a moment, his smile dropped away and his eyes flickered to the window. Jason was talking animatedly on the phone, but the conversation was muted enough that it couldn't be overheard. "You sure you don't want me to stick around? I could provide you a bit of back up," he said.

"I'll be fine, I promise. Besides, this is really a conversation that I should have with Ja…Jason in private. Besides, I don't want you to be late for your shift and give Obretcht an excuse to give you a hard time," Elizabeth replied.

"Like that woman needs an excuse," he groused, and then pulled her into a tight hug. "If you need anything, you call me."

"Only if you promise to do the same?"

"I promise."

* * *

The Floating Rib was slow paced at this time in the morning, with only a few heavy drinkers sitting at the bar and knocking a few back. Sam was seated in a booth, with a big smile on her face. "I can't believe that you are back in town!" she said, clasping hands with the person across the table from her. "You have been missed, Spinelli!"

Damien Spinelli grinned, broadly. He had a bit of a beard, but otherwise hadn't changed a bit. "It is good to have a reason to come back to Port Charles," he replied, enthused. "If only Jason were here, then it would a true reunion."

There were many reasons that Sam kept Spinelli around. His skills with computers and technology were useful and had saved her by the skin of her teeth more than once. She also liked that he admired her and had often been her wingman when times were tough with Jason, helping her remind her husband of whom he belonged with. It was enough for her to put up with his rambles and nicknames, and given the current set of circumstances, she needed someone who blindly loyal to her in her corner.

"I wanted to invite him, but—" Sam twisted her hands together, nervously.

"You don't want to push," Spinelli said.

"Yeah. I think—I think we are on really good terms right now, so I don't want to do anything that would jeopardize that," Sam stated, with a hesitant smile. The two of them ordered when the waiter stopped by, and the brunette turned to the hacker. "So, what have you been doing? I wanted to hear all about it."

"Well, to be honest, it hasn't been all that great. After the pregnancy scare with Maximista, I thought Elle and I moving away for Port Charles would mend things, but it just seemed to make things worse. Elle didn't like that we had to move halfway across the country to outrun my ex, so she wasn't a threat to our relationship," Spinelli confessed, his voice strained. His lips pursed to the side, and he ran a hand through his hair. "We tried to make it work for as long as we could, but it was all in vain."

"Oh, Spinelli." There was a brief twinge of sadness that Sam felt for him. "Elle doesn't know what a mistake she is making by letting you go."

"That is very kind of you to say," Spinelli replied, with a wan smile. He cleared his throat, shifting back in the booth to try and relax. "Thankfully, Stone Cold provided a great distraction. He reached out to me, quite unexpectedly to try and figure out what happened to him in Helena's care, and to learn more about the heinous deeds committed by the Dark Prince."

Her curiosity was piqued. "Have you found anything yet?"

"I've been scanning the servers on Cassidine Island, but the security is ironclad and highly sophisticated. It'll take me a while before I can crack it," he stated, rather disappointedly.

"You'll figure out, Spinelli. You always do," Sam said, reassuringly. The last thing she needed was the hacker to mope himself into a depressed and useless state. She had barely made it through his phase after the first break up with Maxie, without strangling him. "I don't suppose I can ask you to keep my updated on anything you find?"

"Of course, I will, Goddess. So, uh, please tell me how are things progressing with Jason? Any rekindling of a romantic sort?" asked Spinelli, eagerly.

Despite how helpful of a cheerleader he was, Sam still found how invested Spinelli was in her relationship with Jason a bit disconcerting at times. She bit her tongue though because she wasn't about to alienate the one person who could likely help find proof of Elizabeth's lying ways and give her the opportunity to cut the nurse down to size.

"Look, I know that you want what's best for Jason and I but rekindling our romance might not be that. It might not even be possible," Sam responded, stumbling over a few words to make her seem uncertain. "I mean, my engagement with Patrick just fell apart and I don't want to move too quickly into another relationship, especially not with Jason. That would be way too complicated for me to handle right now."

The waiter brought by their food and drinks, halting the conversation for a few minutes. When the server departed, Spinelli turned his full attention to Sam, ignoring the ice-cold, orange soda bubbling in the glass. It was a testament to how serious he was.

"I understand your trepidation. It almost seems too good to be true. We all had to accept that Jason was gone forever, but you took the longest to accept that because deep down, your heart knew it wasn't true," he reminded her, his tone soft and gentle. He was taking great pains not to push to hard, which meant that Sam's poker face was working wonders. "You were the one who stood lamenting on the docks, having that gut feeling that Jason was still out there. Now...Now he's _returned_. Haven't you felt a shift? The earth tilted back on its axis, all the stars align?"

"I'll admit that all does _almost _seem right in the world," Sam replied, with a hint of a smile. She tapped her nails along the stem of her glass, tilting her head to the side. "I just don't want to let myself get my hopes up. There is a chance that Jason won't remember his past, and that includes his love for me. And even if he woke up tomorrow with all his memories, it doesn't mean that he would be our Jason. A lot has happened in this last year and a half that can't be erased."

"Ah." It seemed like something clicked in his mind. "You are worried that the fact that he has allowed the Maternal One and the Stone Cold Prodigy back into his life, might have changed things."

The dismay that warped her features was genuine, and she had to swallow the burning knot of annoyance down the back of her throat at his stupid, insipid nickname for the nurse. She should have been called _the Maternal One, _not that bitch.

"That's one thing, yeah. He has been pretty adamant about co-parenting with Elizabeth, and they've become close over recently months," Sam spoke, with a mild shrug. She was pleased to not a single ounce of hatred she felt for the mother of three come through. "I mean, they both swear up and down that they are just friends, but isn't that how it always starts?"

"You don't want to start a relationship with Jason, because you are afraid that he has formed a significant relationship with Fair Elizabeth," Spinelli guessed.

Sam took a healthy sip of her martini and pulled the olive off the toothpick with her teeth. She chewed it thoughtfully and gulped it down, before she decided how she was going to answer. "Look, I hate to be overly dramatic, but Elizabeth is like a phantom. She has always been on the outskirts of my life with Jason from day one. I look at how close she and Jason are now, and it reminds of the worst time in my life," she responded, her voice thick with tears. "I screwed up and drove Jason away, and that left a gap for Elizabeth to get into. She has Jason's child and that is always going to be a link between them. I hate bringing up the past but seeing them so chummy brings up all those bad times. All those old insecurities and anger, I just don't know how to swallow it."

"Have you shared any of these concerns?" asked Spinelli, worriedly.

Sam shrugged. "I've talked to Monica on occasion, but she is Jake's grandmother. She has to deal with Elizabeth, too, and I don't want to stir the pot."

He "I know that you will always feel cheated by what happened all those years ago, with Fair Elizabeth and Stone Cold. No one can blame you for that, but Jason chose to come back to you. Regardless of what connection he had with her, he felt a stronger pull to you. You had no idea he was Jason until recently," Spinelli reasoned, trying to ease her fears. He was earnest like a puppy, trying to happily appease its master. "You had no reason to befriend him or get close to him. You have a connection with him, too. It just needs to be nourished and replenished, and whatever friendship he has with the Maternal One will pale in comparison with what he has with you."

"I hope so," Sam whispered, sadly.

Spinelli pulled out his cellphone from his jeans. "I'm going to call Jason," he decided.

"What? Why?" Sam's eyes went wide.

"To invite him to join us. I'll be the one bugging him and being all insistent," Spinelli offered, with a winning smile. "And you can say that you were just pulled along for the ride, too."

_Checkmate, _she thought, barely holding back a smirk.

"I don't know, Spinelli…" Sam sighed.

"Oh, come on. It wouldn't hurt to try?" He already fished his cellphone out of his coat pocket and found Jason in his contacts. He pressed the call button and put the phone up to his ear, sharing a conspiratorially smile with Sam. "Hi, Jason. I am so glad that I got ahold of you! I am out at the Floating Rib and was wondering if you wanted to swing by so we could talk."

It would have been funny that he thought that this was all his idea, it if weren't so damn sad how easily he was played. It was pretty pathetic actually, but even the gullible had their place in life. She lifted her drink, mentally toasting herself to a job well down when she saw the bright gleam dull in Spinelli's eyes as his face fell.

"Oh, oh, my. Is everyone alright?" he asked, distressed.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, hating being out of the loop.

"Oh, that was Sam." Spinelli's eyes darted towards her, apologetic and begging forgiveness. "Stone Col—Sorry, I know you don't like the nickname. J—Jason, uh, he is at Elizabeth's right now. Apparently, there was a break-in a couple night's ago."

There was blood in her mouth, she bit her cheek so hard. A scream raked up her insides, and she will never know how she managed to contain it. She had to look away from Spinelli, or else he would have seen the way her face shifted, revealing the true depths of her rage. She tossed down the rest of her martini and was about to call the waiter back over to order something with a bit more kick when Spinelli had a moment of inspiration that made her want to sing his praises to high heaven.

"There is nothing that I can really do. I am far more capable behind a computer screen then searching for physical evidence at a crime scene, but I do know an extremely talented PI that would be more than happy to swing by and help!" Spinelli tossed her a toothy grin, and Sam returned it with full force.

This was the opportunity that Sam had been waiting for, and trust Spinelli to be able to deliver to her practically on a silver platter. She could nip whatever damsel in distress game that Elizabeth was up to now because the timing of this break-in was just too damn convenient to be plausible, and it would give her a chance to root around Elizabeth's house. The nurse was not savvy enough to hide evidence, like a good con-artist like herself.

She finally had Elizabeth exactly where she wanted her.

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER!**

**Author's Note: So things are finally shaping up! I know there hasn't been much Jason in the last couple of chapters, but promise he will show up in the next one and we see what he is doing. ;)**

RRs are appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing from General Hospital.

Author's Note: I apologize for the lateness of the update. It has been crazy and hectic, and my writing kind of fell to the back burner, but hopefully I will pick up the pace. I hope that you enjoy the update!

I want to thank, trini12180, arcoiris0502, fundays, notenoughlove, Guest 1, Guest 2, chicki'62, for the reviews!

I want to thank, Bryantk82, Jmmartinez, ERCommandoTwilight, Twisted Musalih, trini12180, babeboo1968, RobJas, arcoiris0502, mif456, notenoughlove, killianariel18100, shermi, Wonderwomom, diamond2225leo, ghfan51184, lita4277, Bettyboop48748, Liasonfan75, 1bree, Meghie03, Shadow2485, brae76, jhplug, starlight guardian, IHEARTPADF00T, THEfictionfanatic, liasamccool388, Gyngerbear, SlytherinQueen020, Phasesofthemoom, phillymom65, Yin-Yang M, soagirlforver, Quinesia for the favs.

I want to thank, Bryantk82, DisneyPrincess1986, Jmmartinez227129, kcke2pen, lsmalltown8, ERCommandoTwilight, Keoje3530, aphass, leeleelaya5, trini12180, ReedBrenda75, babeboo1968, Starbright62, LiasonFan50, RobJas, mif456, notenoughlove, shermi, Liason4220, Kimora J, arcoiris0502, Wonderwomom, diamond2225leo, ghfan51184, Fancyxo, byland, Mirage Rules, Liasonfan75, 1bree, Shadow2485, brae76, rebates912, sashahailee, bjq, jhplug, starlight guardian, FallenWings8Tears, SPEEDIE22, mgrand11 and lisamccool388, Marie567, beachanita, Gyngerbear, SlytherinQueen020, Quinesia, gregsgirl3, phillymom65, Yin-Yang M, soagirlforver for the follows.

Guest Reviews:

Guest 1: I have to admit that I love a man with an accent. Irish, Scottish, you name it. I don't mind long reviews, short reviews, it just makes me glad that so many people enjoy the stories. I always felt that Sam latched onto Monica for the Quartermain inheritance, and with Jake's death and the reveal of his paternity, to have another person to use against Elizabeth. I liked JaDrew in the beginning, but he definitely was a bit too condescending towards Elizabeth after the whole lie, especially if he had all of Jason's memories. Like did he remember the lengths Sam went to? Sam is justified but Liz wasn't? Ugh. That is my entire problem with Jasam. If a soap couple needs to constantly be propped and reminded of their true love every other day, and the pairing can't exude that on their own then it needs to be tossed away. Sam is right about Carly and Sonny, but she doesn't see the hypocrisy because she thinks she is different. Typhoon Carly, indeed. Carly never missed a chance to badmouth Liz, but Aimee isn't one to listen to bullcrap. I'm glad that you liked Ross and Aimee's interaction, and the ice incident, ditto. Patrick has always been a loyal and true friend to Elizabeth. I totally agree that he is way better than Steven. In Steven's head, he is being helpful, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Thank you so much for the fantastic review!

Guest 2: Thank you! I have written Sam as a better person in other fics, but mostly I just can't get behind her as a character. I believe that Sam didn't change as a person, so much as she changed her methods of getting what she wanted. The Sam whitewashing has been shoved down our throats too much. Your assessment of Sam is spot on. I couldn't have said it better myself. I just wish that they would let Sam be the amoral vixen she was brought on to be instead of trying to write her as a hero. KeMo is so much better at the bad girl dynamic than the wholesome good girl approach. I am so happy that you like the story so much! And I am glad that you like Aimee. I always worry about adding OCs, if people are going to take to them well. Oh, she is definitely Team Elizabeth, so expect future shenanigans against Carly/Sonny/Sam, etc. :D

Chicki'62: Thank you so much. The Prince of Darkness isn't sitting idle in cell, but what he is planning, you'll just have to wait and see. I'm glad that you like the Tracy and Laura talk, it was interesting to write. :D

* * *

Chapter Seven

—**chapter them song**—

—_"Emergency" _**by Paramore**—

* * *

Elizabeth busied herself with cleaning up the house. She needed the distract to cool her hot temper before she faced an inquisition by Drew over the break-in the other night. It raised her hackles to be talked down to like she was dumb, or incapable of making her own decisions, especially those that affected her family. She had been a single mother for years and did the best by her kids. After putting the dirty dishes into the dish washer and started it, Elizabeth made her way back into a living room where Drew stood with a book in his hand.

He had a perturbed expression on his face. "Elizabeth," he said, slowly, "what is this?"

She glanced at the front of the book. "That is Jake's sketchbook. He wanted one with a motorcycle on it, and I couldn't find any at the store. Had to order it online. Why? What's the matter?" she asked.

Drew passed over the sketchbook to her, and Elizabeth found herself looking at a horrifying drawing. It was a picture of a house, and what looked like to be a monster standing on the outside. It had a lot of dark colors like black, browns and gray. The lines weren't steady, but crooked and jagged.

"Jake has drawn me a couple of pictures before, but I've never seen him draw anything like this. Have you?" Drew asked, with a worried frown.

"No, this doesn't look like his, but I suppose that it has to be. Cameron isn't really into art and he wouldn't touch Jake's artbook. Emily might draw in a page or two, but she is all about flowers and kitty cats, not _this_," Elizabeth responded, faintly. Her fingers traced the picture, slowly and with great care to attention. "The lines are so _angry_. You can tell that he pressed down harshly on the colored pencils by the impression on the paper."

"What about Jake's therapist?" Drew asked. "Has Jake drawn anything like this in his sessions?"

There wasn't a lot that Elizabeth wanted to talk to Drew about now that she knew he wasn't Jason. He was a sort of friend of hers, but she didn't know what kind of man Drew had been before being implanted with Jason's memories. And while she didn't want to believe that he was somehow a part of stealing Jason's life away from him, Elizabeth knew she had to be extra vigilant.

"I…don't know. I will have to talk to speak to Dr. Maddox about it," she said, quietly. She shut the artbook and set it down on the table. "He might have a better idea of what this could mean."

"Let me know what he says," Drew commented, after a sigh. "I don't what it is…but this picture just gave me cold chills and knowing what I know about what Jake has been through, I just want to know that he is doing alright."

Elizabeth smiled, a little strained, but before she could, she heard the pitter patter of feet coming down the staircase. Jake always shot around the house as fast as his foot could care him, too restless to sit still and her heart ached the way his eyes lit up with joy at the sight of Drew. He rushed down the flight of stairs and latched onto Drew like a limpet.

"Dad, what are you doing here? Are we going to the park? Or maybe the movies?" Jake asked, excitedly.

It was a powerful emotion that lanced through her heart. A guilt that formed while she watched Jake run happily to Drew—this man who he thought was his father—and she had to choke down the knot that formed in the back of her throat. The real Jason wanted to keep the truth a secret, until he could better prepare for the backlash and threats that would arise upon his return to Port Charles. It was difficult to keep that promise.

It was a difficult lie to keep. All lies were difficult, even with the best of reasons for them. Elizabeth would be grateful when the day came that she wouldn't have to live around half-truths and lies of omissions.

"No, buddy. Not today," Drew said, ruffling his hair playfully. "I wanted to come in and check on everyone. See how everyone was doing."

Elizabeth chewed on her lower lip, and her eyes flickered between Drew and Jake before she cleared her throat. "Hey, Jake, why don't you go see if Emily and Cameron want to go play the games up in your room?"

Jake gave her a shrewd glance. "Is that your way of getting rid of me because you have adult things to talk about?"

Drew let out a startled laugh. "Where did you get your cheek from?"

"Mom," Jake replied, proudly.

"Yeah, I can see that," Drew said.

His gaze all warm and appraising, with that slow smile. He was wholesome, all white picket fences and boy next door charm, and there had been a time that Elizabeth used to think that was all she wanted in a man. She had built up Lucky, who had that same type of charm, until he didn't. It was how Ric had tried to trick all those years ago, too. So, anytime that someone seemed a little too perfect to be true it set off alarm bells in her head.

Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek and looked away a bit awkwardly. "Yes, we have adult things to talk about. So please do me this favor? I promise that if you and your siblings stay on your best behavior, then I'll take you all out for ice cream. How does that sound?"

"Deal!" Jake agreed, then shot out of the living room like lightning.

Elizabeth heard him holler at his siblings about ice cream, and games, and heard footsteps stomp up the back stairway to the second floor. "It's like living with a herd of elephants," she said, with a mild laugh.

"I think that a group of elephants are called a parade," Drew commented.

"Oh?" Elizabeth arched a brow. "I never knew that."

The traces of laughter dwindled off his face and he peered at her thoughtfully. "How are you doing? I can't imagine that this has been easy, with the kids and the break-in," Drew said.

"I just want answers," Elizabeth said, a bit tentatively. "Why was someone skulking around my house? Why would anyone attempt to break in? I just don't understand any of this."

She knew that were several people who could be responsible, and her mind was coming up with the new worst-case scenarios every other second. She was tired with monster like Helena or Faison getting away with tormenting the people that she loved again and again. Helena might be truly dead and six-feet deep in the ground, but the woman had a reach that extended beyond the grave. Faison was in the wind and doing who knows what. And that was not taking in account their associates, or people that they've paid off in advance.

And to say nothing of Nikolas's involvement…it was just a whole sordid mess that she couldn't even begin to deal with.

Drew gently took her face into his hands. "You don't have to do this alone," he promised, quietly.

It happened in slow motion, and yet she couldn't stop it. Elizabeth couldn't reply to his vow, or even murmur protest before he put his mouth over hers. He kissed her fervently, even when she stood there frozen and mouth closed tight, against his ardor. She was just so taken aback from him just kissing her out of the blew that she didn't know what to do, other than stand there like an idiot until it was all over.

He pulled back, opening his eyes and Elizabeth placed a hand on his chest, pushing him away.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.

There was something in his eyes—a dark shadow that scared her, a consuming hunger and desperate need that made her stomach quiver in a not so good way. He retracted his hands from her face, and she took a hasty step back, needing to put distance between them.

Drew nervously licked his lips and ran a hand down the back of his neck. "I am sorry. I—I know what you said at the hospital, about how we couldn't be friends—"

"Or anything more than friends," added Elizabeth, frazzled. "I hope you understand why that cannot and will not happen again. If Jake had come down and saw you kissing me, he could have gotten the wrong idea."

"The wrong idea? Elizabeth, look I know you have your doubts, because of Sam and there is Carly poking her nose into everything, but my feelings for you haven't changed. There is no reason that we can't make it work," Drew said, softly. His eyes stared at her soulfully, like he was trying to convey something to her with his eyes alone. "Elizabeth, you—when is the last time you let someone hold you? The last time you let someone love you?"

Elizabeth stubbornly shook her head. "I can't have this conversation with you."

"I know—I know that you think it is impossible for us to be together, but I can't just shut it off. If you tell me how—how to stop what I feel for you then I will," he stated, insistently. He squared his shoulders and folded his arms over his chest, determined to have this conversation.

Her heart pounded in her temples, as loud as a gong being smacked. "Look, I won't ever tell you how to feel or who to feel for. You have a right to your emotions, right or wrong. But I am not going to give you false hope when I can't reciprocate those feelings."

"How do you know when you won't even try?" he accused, fervently.

"After everything that has happened, you really think this is the appropriate time to have this conversation? You are putting me in a really awkward position," Elizabeth told him, trying to hold in her temper. It felt like he was being deliberately obtuse and missing the point on purpose.

"I haven't exactly had many opportunities to talk to you," Drew defended, with a heavy scowl. "You filter in and out, like a ghost just out of the corner of my eye, never long enough to have a real and honest conversation. How else was I—"

An impatient knock came from her doorway, causing Elizabeth to nearly let out a growl of frustration. She held up her hands to indicate that Drew should stay put. "Just—just hold that thought, alright?" she asked, her voice laced with frustration.

Elizabeth didn't know how Drew wasn't getting that she just was not interested in him, at all. She had thought that she had made things clear at the hospital other day, but obviously not, because otherwise why would he decide to kiss her out of the blue? She didn't think her day could get any more complicated, until she opened the front door. A flood of emotions careened across her face, until she settled onto a flinty eyed glare.

"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth demanded, icily. Her eyes cut into Sam, who stood at her door with the cat ate the canary smirk.

If weren't for the fact that Jas—_Drew, his name is Drew, _she reminded herself—loitering over her shoulder, then she would have slammed the door shut right in Sam's face. She clutched the doorknob in a knuckle white grip and choked back the knee jerk reaction. There was a moment that she wasn't sure that she was going to be able to do it, but the wave of distrust and anger passed, for now.

"I asked you a question," Elizabeth said, head cocked to the side. "What are you doing here?"

"Spinelli told me what happened after he got off the phone with Jason. I know that we aren't exactly on the best of terms, but I am a Private Eye," Sam responded, with an easygoing tone. Her eyes were fixated on Drew, not Elizabeth. "It is my job to search for the truth. I would be happy to help out, unless Elizabeth is going to object to this."

The subtle challenge did not go over Elizabeth's head, but before she could even respond, there was Drew answering for her. "Elizabeth wouldn't object," Drew said. "She wants this cleared up as much as I do."

"I want the matter handled by letting the police do their job," Elizabeth refuted, sending him a sharp look over her shoulder. "There is absolutely no need for Sam to butt in here."

"Hey, let's not be too hasty. I don't know about you, but I don't exactly have faith in the PCPD," Drew stated, with a hand resting on the small of Elizabeth's back.

The nurse shrugged off his touch, marching away from the front door with her arms folded tightly over her chest. Her blood rushed through her ears with a roar and her chin was jutted out stubbornly, while she tried to rein in the distrust and irritation that always simmered underneath her skin when Sam was near. She didn't trust the woman, and she never would. She could bite her tongue to a point but wasn't about to let Sam try to pull something. And she was going to, Elizabeth was certain of it.

It was just too convenient for Spinelli to send Sam over to help with the investigation. She could see the makings of a trap, having been put in many precarious situations throughout her entire life. _But that would make her suspicious, _she thought, _more suspicious. And the last I want her to do is to dig into the last few days and learn of my trip up to Ithaca. Jason doesn't want anyone to know about him, and if Sam even catches a whiff of what is going on, she'll be like a dog with a bone. There is too much at stake, so much more than I even can see to have Sam screw things up. _

"Please, come in," Drew invited Sam inside. He shut the door lightly, and his gaze turned to Elizabeth, a trace of a frown on his lips. "Let's get out of the cold and talk some more about everything that is going on."

"There is nothing to talk about," Elizabeth said, firmly. She spun around on heel slowly, dropping her hands on her hips. "This is my house and my home, and I have already had to let the police stomp all through here. My children already have enough anxiety then to have another stranger marching about. While the offer is appreciated, Sam can just turn around and go home."

Sam let a muted scoff and turned to look at Drew with her eyebrows raised. Drew stared, his mouth slightly agape and eyes squinted, like he was struggling to understand what Elizabeth just said.

Elizabeth stood her ground with her eyes narrowed into a glare.

* * *

The familiar sight of the docks stirred a wave of nostalgia in Jason.

There had been some of the worst and best times spent out here on the waterfront. The job that he had chosen all those years ago had defined him here where the roots of the criminal underground ran deepest. He hadn't appreciated the cost of the life Sonny had shown him, only seized the freedom all too eagerly. If he were presented the same choice now that he was older and wiser, Jason would have made a vastly different choice. Sonny demanded complete loyalty and control over all those in his employment, and those that he called friends and family; he allowed his maniac moods to control him, more off his medicine than on. He let his ego come before the welfare of those that he loved, and the good person underneath the grit and grim had withered away years ago.

Jason hadn't wanted to believe it. He had wanted to give Sonny the benefit of the doubt, but the amount of evidence he had collected with Robert and Anna, he couldn't deny that any good left in Sonny had died.

His blue gaze was cast out across the water to the island that was barely visible through the thick fog. The Cassidine family had created tragedy and death that rocked the foundation of this city more than once, and it was a surprise that they were knee deep in his kidnapping and other dangerous schemes. Jason had hoped to take the ferry across to the Island. It was a big tourist attraction thanks for the tabloids and trash magazines that monetized the blood legacy attached to it that stemmed back before the Cassidine family claimed the spot of land, and he could blend in with the tourists in order to get the manor. He had a blueprint with all the secret passages and tunnels that ran through the island and manor and was hoping to spot any strange activities that might be linked to Valentin.

He had his hands in the pockets oversized hoodie, with the cowl pulled up and fake glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose. His light-colored hair had been colored black with a temporary dye to disguise himself. He would occasionally look at the group of tourists to try and spot a familiar face, because he didn't need to recognize. That would be a complication that he honestly didn't need.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he saw Lulu Spencer in the crowd. He felt unease sloshed unpleasantly in his gut and kept his face angled away from the young woman. He was pleasantly surprised that Lulu had stayed amicable with Elizabeth given the Spencer family's habit of turning petty and vicious when the nurse wouldn't bear the burden of Lucky. He wondered if they had pressured her to get back with Lucky after he had left Elizabeth and the boys to keep them safe from the mob life, but then decided that he didn't want to think of that. It would only cause him distraction and needle at him, and those weren't answers he could get until he saw Elizabeth again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Brooklyn Cassidine stride through the crowd straight towards Lulu like a heat seeking missile. The look on her face was bloodthirsty and artic cold, a look that made her eerily resembled her grandmother. She placed a hand on Lulu's shoulder and whipped the blond around to face none too gently. "What are you doing here, Lulu?" demanded Brooklyn, rancorously.

A sneer contorted Lulu's face into something dark and ugly. "Well, if it isn't Princess Cassidine. Come to enjoy the squalor amongst us peasants?"

"That would be Queen Cassidine. And if you didn't want to be mistaken for a peasant," Brooklyn said, viewing Lulu up and down with a critical eye, "then don't dress like one."

A few of the tourists edged away from the confrontation in a skittish manner. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see the storm brewing over the two women's heads, and Jason made sure that he stood on the outer ring far away from them. He had seen enough rows between Carly and Brenda to know that it was going to get ugly, only now he was smarter than to get into the middle of it.

"Is there a reason that you've decided to be a bitch today?" asked Lulu.

"I am so glad that you asked." Brooklyn wore a shark-like smile, and her dark eyes glittered dangerously. She opened her large purse, and pulled a set of papers, waving them in the blonde's face. "Perhaps, I wouldn't be a bitch if you didn't involve yourself in my marriage. You want to explain why you showed up at the jail with papers to help Nikolas file for divorce?"

"I thought you could figure that out for yourself?" Lulu cocked her head to the side, with a slight smirk. "It doesn't take two brain cells to rub together knows that your marriage is as fake and just so that neither of you could be forced to testify against the other. The only reason you are sticking around is that you hope can get your grubby hands on the Cassidine Estate."

Brooklyn let out a chuckle. "I'm a Quartermain. I have been set for life before I was even out of the womb."

"You were _until _your father cut you off after you got involved with Nikolas," Lulu responded, with a saccharine smile. "Now you are just trying to get your claws in so deep that you leech off Nikolas for the rest of your life. And if Sonny did something bad to Nikolas that would suit you just fine, wouldn't it? Sonny isn't going to hurt his precious godchild for her part in keeping Jason's identity a secret, but it is hunting season on my brother."

Jason scrubbed a hand down his face. The sheer careless that Lulu was with her words made his temples throb with annoyance. He had no loyalty for Sonny, but the fact that she loudly declared in a crowd of people that Sonny would kill Nikolas would end up in the papers by tomorrow morning, if not sooner. It was reckless. The media gnawed at the bit for more juicy gossip revolving around "Jason Morgan's Return" and wanted to know everything about anyone and everyone involved. The speculation and spotlight were kept fixated on the story thanks to Julian Jerome who had a vested interest in seeing Sonny harmed. Julian was a minor threat on the grand scheme of things.

A ruddy hue darkened Brooklyn's face. "Maybe you should keep your mouth shut, Lulu, if only shit is coming to come out of it."

Lulu looked smug. "That's not a denial."

"You know nothing about my relationship with Nikolas. I have been his friend for years before things got romantic, not that I must justify a damned thing to you. And Sonny would never hurt Nikolas because it would hurt me. And don't think that I don't know that you are trying to get on that ferry in the hopes to try to snoop around my home."

"_Nikolas's home,_" Lulu corrected, in an exaggerated tone. "You can pretend to be this faithful, innocent wife all that you want to, but I have a long memory, Brooklyn. You have proven repeatedly that you will do whatever it takes to get what or who you want in life. You have lied and manipulated, and thrown people that you claimed were your friends underneath the bus—"

"Speaking of throwing people underneath the bus," Brooklyn interjected, loudly over Lulu, "how is Dante doing? I mean, it must be hard knowing that his wife is busy panting over another man."

Lulu went stone-faced. "You don't know what you are talking about."

"Dillion is my cousin. He confides in me," Brooklyn retorted, breezily. "I see how you are sidling up to him, testing the waters to see if he still interested in you. It is what you did when he was married to Georgie. You want him so badly that you stomped all over Georgie in your haste. Are you hoping that the reverse happens this time? That Dillion will be so besotted by you that he'll just knock Dante out of the—"

The sound of the slap cracked against the pavement. Brooklyn's head snapped to the right, and she reached up to touch her cheek with a flicker of astonishment in her eyes. The shock melted away into red-hot anger and the brunette lunged at the blond just as the ferry docked. Jason followed the flow of the crowd when the platform was lowered and glanced back to see the two women locked in a struggle of hair pulling. He shook his head slowly and would be happy when he could put Port Charles and the craziness firmly in his rearview mirror.

* * *

Aimee returned to consciousness, feeling her stomach rolled violently. Her eyes fluttered open and then snapped back, and her face twisted into a grimace. Her hand twitched, feeling the telltale sign of an IV and the sharp, sterile smell meant that she was at the hospital. "Why is there a herd of elephants tapdancing in my head?" she asked, in a miserable tone.

There was a voice to her left. "That would be because you slipped and fell."

She opened her eyes just a sliver, lifting her hand to shield her from the harsh glare of the fluorescent light. "Patrick? You are my doctor?" she asked, a bit confused.

"Don't sound so enthused by that," Patrick replied, with a chuckle.

Aimee let out a weak laugh and regretted it immediately. "So, what's the prognosis, doc? Did I break my skull?" she asked, rubbing her temples.

"You have a mild concussion."

"That explains the elephants," Aimee said, with a sour twist of her lips. Her brows scrunched together in knot, trying to recall what had happened. Snippets came through the fog about her day, from the encounter with Carly and then her little trip to the park. "I remember slipping on some ice, but how did I get to the hospital…"

Her voice trailed off when her head craned around to see the unnamed handsome man from the park. He stood just off the side of the door with his cellphone in hand, and she felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of him. There was a heartbeat before mortification settled burning hot in her cheeks, and she just wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole. She had tried to flee after flirting with a taken man and slipped on ice to bust her ass in front of him and his model girlfriend.

She groaned, burying her face into her hands. "Oh, God."

"I'm Ross Sheppard. We didn't exactly get around to introductions after our first run in," the handsome man replied. He slipped his cellphone into his jacket pocket, and gave her a smile, flashing his pearly white. "Besides, it's not every day that a woman falls for me."

Aimee went red. "Now, I didn't—that is not what happened," she denied, flustered. Her fingers parted so she could peer at him through the gaps, but still hide the reddish hue that her skin had taken. "It takes more than a pretty face to make me swoon."

"Oh, but I am so much more than a pretty face," Ross promised.

She felt her eyes brows shoot up to her forehead, while she pressed her lips together to stifle the giggle that threatened to bubble up out of her. The burst of a laughter was strangled by the sharp stab of pain in her skull, and she let out a hiss through clenched teeth. This week was turning out to be full of unexpected incidents and didn't that just feel a bit too ominous for her liking.

"Mr. Sheppard brought you in a couple of hours ago. He has refused to leave your side and Dr. Obretcht entertained his request to stay with you," Patrick stated, with an unhappy frown. He was protective, like an older brother that Aimee never had. "Apparently, being a rich donor can buy you the right to invade a patient's privacy."

"I just wanted to make sure that she was alright. I felt responsible for your fall," Ross defended, with a sharp look.

Aimee pushed herself into a sitting position with a wince, but Patrick put a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back to a supine position. "Let's not get too hasty. You took a hard knock to the head," he told her, seriously. He pulled out a penlight from his jacket, and checked her pupil dilation, before having her following the direction of the light. "We are going to have to do a cognitive assessment and a few more tests, to determine how long you'll have to stay under observation."

Aimee nodded. The ache in her head was piercing, and raw, but the medicine in the IV drip managed to tone it down enough that she could think. "Lovely. I always wanted to try hospital food," she stated, in a flat and deadpanned tone. Her eyes flickered to Ross for a heartbeat, and there was that pitfall—that roll coaster sensation that made all her insides flutter like butterflies. "You aren't responsible, by the way. It's not like you put the ice there in my path."

"No, I didn't yet I can't help, but think I did something that had you in a rush to leave." His tone was soft and deep, very intense, and his eyes never left her face. His gaze was so focused on her and left her nowhere to hide. "And if you hadn't been in such a rush, then you wouldn't have fallen in the first place."

It had been a disaster of her own design. She allowed her embarrassment to make her careless, and if she had been more aware of her surroundings then she wouldn't have charged across that patch of ice. It wasn't his fault that she had misinterpreted a friendly offer to replace her drink as flirting. She supposed it temporarily by knocking herself out temporarily got her out of an awkward situation, but that didn't help her in the long run now, did it?

She couldn't look away from his face. It took effort to part her dried lips and find her voice, reedy and thin as it was. "It is not your fault. It was just a freak accident. I should have watched my step better."

Patrick ran a series of little tests. He asked her a series of questions such as the date, who was the president, all while he flashed a penlight in her eyes to check the dilation of her pupils. He spared a couple of cold looks in Ross's directions through all the banal but necessary examinations, but otherwise did not comment on the man who hovered at the foot of the bed. He flashed a penlight in her eyes, checking the reactions of her pupils and was satisfied with the results.

"I am going to order a CT scan. If it looks good then I would be comfortable discharging you tomorrow," Patrick promised, with a half-smile. "Do you need me to call anyone? Elizabeth? Laura?"

"Elizabeth already has a lot on her plate than to worry about me," Aimee stated, with a shake of her head. She groaned, immediately regretting the motion and placed her hand against her forehead as if that alone would stop the painful throbbing. "I am not going to bother her about this. And Laura has a date to night with Kevin, I don't want to bother her—"

"There has got to be someone that can go to your house and get you the things you need," Patrick interjected, with a pointed look.

Aimee fidgeted on the hospital bed, picking at her fingernails nervously. She racked her mind for people that she could call, and the list was depressingly short, and she let out a deep sigh. "I suppose you could see if Kelly has the time, but I really don't want to bother anyone—"

"Hey, hey, it isn't a bother," Patrick stated, with a chastising tone. His disapproval was cemented by the knot wrinkled along his brow, and he slipped the penlight back into his lab coat pocket. "I'll got talk to Kelly and get the test scheduled. You just need to sit back and relax, and if you want, I can kick out the unwanted company."

Ross levelled an unimpressed look at Patrick.

"Oh, I—no, he is fine. It's fine. You go do what you have to do," Aimee told him, eyes darted between the two men warily. She watched her friend leave the room with great reluctance, and then sank back wearily against the bed. She ran her fingers through her hair and her lips folded into her mouth, while she stared at the stranger who viewed her with concern. "I am sorry about Patrick. He means well, but he can be a tad overprotective. It just that…my friends and I have all be through a lot. This town unfortunately breeds tragedy and takes a lot of victims."

"Your friend is loyal," Ross commented, with a nod. "You don't have to apologize for that."

Aimee pressed her lips together and then eyes darted down to her lap, feeling self-conscious all the sudden. "I feel that I sort of have to though. I can't imagine that Patrick has been all that warm or welcoming while I was…unconscious."

She heard him chuckle and lifted her eyes to see a flash of his pearly whites before he smothered away the grin quickly. It was unfair that a man so sinfully handsome could exist. He was the first man to attract her interest and more successfully than the last few men that Kelly and Lainey had set her up with. His eyes were sharp and intelligence, a spark of light that gleamed off the surface of his thoughts. He was an ocean that was far too shallow and too deep all in one instance, with a potent allure that begged her to dive in and discover all of that was to know.

Ross shook her head. "I assure you that it was no trouble. I'm glad that you are alright now."

"I—uh, thank you. For coming to the hospital with me. I mean, not a lot of people go out of there was for a stranger, and I'm sure that it probably interfered with your day—" At the amused twinkle in his dark eyes, she felt her voice fade away into a wisp. There was a burn that grew in her face, and she looked away shyly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to ramble. You must think I am some kind of idiot."

"Not in the slightest," Ross promised, with a slight smile. "Do you have a habit of doing that?"

Aimee tilted her head, confused. "What do you mean?"

"The apologizing bit." His smile spread, and he had a scar that slashed down across his mouth. It just added to his charm, and caused her heart thundered so fast in her chest. "Where you say sorry for everything repeatedly."

"I'm—" Aimee stopped herself, teeth sinking into her lower lip. She reached up to rub the back of her neck, and a sheepish laugh wobbled up through her chest. It was a laugh to cover up the sickness that bubbled up in her gut when memories of shadows and hiding in corners, the reflex to apologize to placate rage. "I guess I never really paid attention."

The change in his expression is minute and subtle; the flicker of humor dissolved into a quizzical frown along his brow, and his eyes slide across her face in careful consideration. "Are you sure you will be alright?" he asked.

The opening of the door halted her response. Kelly Lee waltzed in with a pep in her step and a sassy smile on her lips. "Aimee, I—oh, _hello,_" she practically purred when her attention swung from her friend to prime specimen of masculinity. Her gaze was shameless in the way it roamed over Ross and admiring his finery qualities. "You must be Aimee's knight in shining armor that everyone has been buzzing about. I can certainly see why."

Ross stifled his amusement. "I don't see myself as the chivalrous archetype."

"And an accent, too! Aren't you just the full package?" Kelly chirped.

Aimee shifted on the bed, uncomfortably. The medicine had dulled most the aches and pains, slipping that to the back of her mind, so it wasn't that making her uneasy. Her eyes flickered from Kelly to Ross, a pit formed in her stomach. The realization poured over her in an icy wave. It wasn't because Kelly was flirting with Ross, because the doctor had a habit of flirting with anyone under the sun even though she was devoted to her partner of three years, . It was her vibrance and outgoing nature that Aimee envied so greatly in this moment. Kelly thrived on being adventurous and in the spotlight, taking risks and chances.

Aimee didn't have the luxury of being a risk taker. She had lived her entire life dictated by fear and built walls to hide behind and ignored so many chances that came by. At that moment, a notification tone pierced through the room. She watched Ross slip his phone out of his pocket, just long enough to check it, and there was a strange shadow that passed across his features. A shadow that was so full of familiar exhaustion and anger, but it was gone so quickly that she felt that perhaps that she had imagined it.

"I have business that I need to attend to. Are you sure that you are going to be alright?" asked Ross.

"Ye—yeah, I'm going to be fine. I appreciate that you stuck around to make sure I was going to be okay, but I don't want to keep you from…from responsibilities," Aimee responded, in a whisper. She gave him an uncertain smile, and her fingers twisted in the blanket on her lap. "Thank you."

Ross's hard mouth softened, the left corner tucked up. His dark eyes flickered down to her, sincere and tender. "You're welcome. Perhaps next time that we meet we won't have to be strangers anymore."

Aimee felt her heart skipped a beat in her chest. A warmth suffused covered her face, and her gaze shied away from his. She watched surreptitiously through her lashes as he walked out of the hospital room, but hastily stomped out the butterflies and tingles. It was ridiculous to pine after a virtual and very much unavailable stranger like a schoolgirl with a crush. The chances of her seeing him again were slim to none, so it was best to just shove it aside and focus on more important things.

Kelly sighed longingly. "I bet he has an ass that you could bounce a quarter off of."

"You're horrible," Aimee accused, half-heartedly.

"Oh, come on. You were thinking it, too," Kelly accused, playfully. "Now, Patrick asked me to come see if there was anything I could grab from your house for your overnight stay."

"Don't you have patients and appointments?" asked Aimee, with a brow arched.

"My schedule is pretty clear. I haven't had that many patients lately. It's like someone put some kind of birth control in the water. I think I'll post that on the Port Charles conspiracy board when I have the time," Kelly stated, with a thoughtful look. "I used to have patients every other day coming to me with health concerns, or paternity tests, and got a front row seat to a lot of drama. Now…_pfft! _All the drama is gone out of my life like a candle in the wind."

Aimee looked at her wide-eyed. "Don't tell me you actually miss the drama."

Kelly snorted. "At some point, you have to embrace the crazy of this town in order to survive it. I'm just saying that…everything is calm now. It's just a little too calm since Jason Morgan's return. There have been little spats here and there, the usually spiel from Hurricane Carly, but nothing explosive just yet. Mark my words, things are about to start heating up in Port Charles."

Aimee was overwhelmed spine-tingling sensation at her friend's prediction. It was a statement made in jest, but there was an unsettling weight behind those words. She felt it for a while now, even before the break-in and her own past coming to haunt her. It was as if the whole city was poised on the edge of a cliff, holding it breath tight and a split second away from a plunge. Into what, Aimee feared finding out.

"Well, this is one thing that I hope you are wrong about," Aimee said, softly.

* * *

Drew dragged a hand down his face, releasing a long exhale. He walked over to Elizabeth, reached out to gentle touch her elbow, and pulled back a fraction when she withdrew from him. "Come on, Elizabeth. I know that this isn't an ideal situation, but why don't we just let Sam look around?" he asked, placatingly.

There were several reasons that Elizabeth was not about to let that happened. Too many reasons that were complicated and came with a bunch of baggage to the past, and that was just a fight that Elizabeth didn't have the energy for. Instead, she gave a firm shake of her head. "No. Like I said I appreciate the offer—"

"I'm not sure that you do," Sam snipped.

Drew sighed.

"But it's not happening. The police sent a whole team out, and they are investigating to the best of their ability. I have no need of a private eye going through my house," Elizabeth continued, as if Sam hadn't said a thing at all. She could feel her blood pressure built, turning her cheeks bright red with indignation. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"It just—it never hurt to go over the scene with a fresh pair of eyes," Sam said.

Sam would have been the picture of benevolence, and earnest, if Elizabeth hadn't learned to carefully watch her dark eyes. It was Sam's eyes that gave her away, unable to hold back this cold and calculative spark, every so often when something happened that she didn't plan on. The cogs in her head always churning and working to outthink her opponent. Her mask would slip, just a margin and just a hair too long, between the transition in her emotions for it all to be genuine.

"Can't you just put your feelings aside for me just for a second?" Sam beseeched. "If someone tried to break into your house, then you have your children's safety to consider."

"Do not speak to me about my children," Elizabeth warned, in a critical tone. "You do not get an opinion or a voice when it comes to my family."

"Look, this isn't getting us anywhere. The most important thing here is that you and the boys are safe, correct?" Drew stepped between the two women to play mediator. "Sam—Sam would never do anything to hurt your family. There's no harm in letting Sam look around."

"There_ is_ harm. There is always going to be harm. Sam and I will never see eye to eye on a wealth of things because the bad blood between us. I don't trust her as far as I could throw her, and I don't want her snooping around my house. And I don't want her around my children," she stated, with emphasis. . "You might not remember what she is capable of, but I do remember very clearly."

"Whatever that's supposed to mean," Sam muttered, darkly.

"'Whatever that means?'" Elizabeth mocked, with her left brow arched high. "You know what? I am not going to do this with you. I have way more important things than to waste my time fighting with you and having a circular argument about the past. Also, _Jason_," she added, with a sharp look at him, "I have considered my kids safety. I have hired a security team that will be looking after the kids and I, until this person is caught."

"And how were you able to afford that?" asked Sam, with a slightly accusatory tone.

Elizabeth leveled a dark look in the brunette's direction. "Not that I owe you any explanation, but I have an old friend who runs a security business. He offered to send a group of his best over until the police catch the guy who attempted to break in. He name is Francis Corelli." She turned towards Drew and folded her arms loosely over her shoulders. "He used to work for Sonny as a guard many years ago."

A look of shock passed over Sam's features.

It didn't surprise Elizabeth. Most people liked to pretend that she had never been close to Sonny or Jason, until Jake had been born. The truth was there had been a time that she called Sonny a friend, was very close to Jason, and knew all the guards by name. One of the few people from that time that had stayed in her life consistently was Francis. The headquarters of his business was in Savannah, Georgia but that never stopped him from doing his best to keep in touch.

"You hired someone affiliated with the mob?" Drew asked, shocked.

"Francis runs a legit security business, and he is someone who has never let me down," Elizabeth responded. "And please don't start to talk about the danger because that would make you very much a hypocrite."

The unease slid off his face. "I just worry about you."

Behind his back, Sam's expression twisted unpleasantly.

Elizabeth made note to make sure to specifically point Sam out to the security guards. She wasn't about to let one of her 'moments of weakness' put her child in harm's way ever again. Disregarding the brunette all together, her eyes flickered back to Jason. "Jason, some of the most danger moments in my life have nothing to do with the mob life. Some of the worst things that ever happened to me, were when you weren't even a part of my life," stated Elizabeth.

_God, I wish I had said this to Jason years ago. I wish that I could tell him this now. I wish I hadn't ever let him think that his life was too danger for us to be together. We made so mistakes and left too much unsaid, _she thought, with an ocean of regret swirling inside of her stomach. She let out a long, rattled sigh and tunneled her fingers through her hair.

"And I'm not going to apologize for trying to protect my kids. I trust Francis with my life, and the lives of my children. Now if you won't be content until Sam plays PI and looks around the house, she can come back when the security team arrives," Elizabeth commented. She offered the middle ground, not because she was feeling particularly generous, but because she knew that Sam would withdraw her offer of "assistance".

"That won't be necessary," Sam stated, a noticeable hesitance in her voice. "I don't want to add more stress or make things worse."

"That's a first," muttered Elizabeth.

Sam glared.

Drew pinched the bridge of his nose, then his cellphone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the screen. "It's Michael. I got to take it," he said, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder. "Can I trust you two to stay civil until I get back?"

Elizabeth gave him a brittle smile. "No promises."

"What she said," Sam replied, with a hiss.

His shoulders drooped, and he shook his head tiredly. He walked into the kitchen to take the phone call, and the second he was out of earshot, the tension spiked in the air. It was that ugly undercurrent of mutual dislike between the two women that had only grown over the years, fueled by many things and most of them were unforgivable.

Sam arched a lofty brow. "You want to talk? I mean, we can get this over with now or wait. It's your choice."

"Why don't you tell me what you think I've done, so I know exactly what I am supposed to be denying," Elizabeth said, scathingly.

"Jason doesn't need me for this."

"Good, there's the door. See yourself out."

"Jason doesn't need me, because he already knows what's going on." A caustic smile stretched out from ear to ear, Sam looked down her nose at Elizabeth like she had caught the nurse with a smoking gun. "He just can't admit it to himself. He can't see what's right in front of him."

"You think you everything all figured out." Elizabeth rolled her eyes so hard that she could practically see into next week. "No wonder you are such a prolific PI."

Sam twitched at the mention of her failed career. "I know enough about cons to know one when I see one. No one attempted to break in. You set this whole thing up, just to try to get Jason's attention. You are manipulating him again, just like that sob story of how Nikolas threatened you. You're playing the victim, and pretending your kids are in danger, so he would feel compelled to come protect you."

There was a moment where Elizabeth stood there, and all she could hear was white noise crackling against her ear drums. Her thoughts scattered in the face of the accusations because she was so unbelievably baffled by them. As soon as her mind kicked back into gear, she felt her face light up red with fury.

"It is astounding. Truly, it is." Her voice was so cold that it was a surprise that her lips didn't develop frostbite. "The way you don't even have to brain cells to rub together. How long did it take you to come up with this genius little accusation? A week? A month?"

"Stoop low to petty insults all you want, but I know what you are like."

"Oh, the hell you do!"

Drew re-entered the living room at the sound of yelling. His gaze swept back and forth between the two women who looked ready to come to blows and was between them in five long strides. "I was literally gone all of five minutes, and you two look ready to kill each other."

"It is a near thing," Elizabeth admitted, hotly. "Your little buddy here who was all too eager to help just moments ago, just accused me of staging the whole break in. Want to tell me again that there is no harm in letting her look around?"

Drew whipped around with a stunned expression, while Sam shrank back with a mulish expression on her face. "What? Sam, is that true?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

Sam's chin jutted out stubbornly. "I just stated how I see it, Jason. I know that you might be reluctant to jump to conclusions, but it obvious that this is all a ploy. No evidence, no witnesses, and no—"

"You are literally assuming all of this from _nothing_!" Elizabeth would have slapped her across the face if it weren't for the hand that Drew wrapped around her elbow to keep her back, and she was practically vibrating from head to toe with anger. "You do not get to come into my house, act all high and mighty with no facts and all bluster. I don't owe you a damn thing, not even an explanation, but since you are so determined to paint me as some evil succubus who would terrorize my own children to hold onto a man, here are some facts before I throw you out on your ass."

"Elizabeth," Drew whispered.

"No, no, she is not getting away with making up lies and rumors about my family. We have been through enough as is, and I—" Elizabeth took in a deep cleansing breath. She viewed Sam with a look like she had found something disgusting stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "There were witnesses, there is physical evidence, but not enough to pinpoint a clear suspect. Now, if Jason wants to know all the details then I will happily tell him, but as for you? Go fuck yourself and the white horse you rode in on."

"Jason, are you going to let her get away with talking to me like that?" Sam gaped.

Drew sighed. "At this moment, yes."

Sam staggered back like he had wounded her.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth shook her head and shook his hand off her arm. "Just—just get her out of my house, please."

Drew nodded, his eyes were flinty. He placed a firm hand on Sam's shoulder, steering the sputtering brunette out the door. He glanced back once at Elizabeth and then cringed sheepishly from her furious gaze and shut the door behind them.

* * *

"Jas—Jason, will you slow down?" Sam said, chasing him down the driveway. He was walking so fast and nearly leaving her in the dust. Her heart was hammering in her chest and a cold, sweat broke out along her skin. Her mind felt like she was in shambles, and she despised that somehow, someway that Elizabeth had gotten the upper hand on her.

Jason whirled around, bending his head so that he was down in her face. "What were you thinking, Sam? Like what were you thinking by going in there? Were you even earnest when you said you wanted to help? Or did you just want to find something in there to further your agenda?"

"What? No!" Sam felt tears swell up in her eyes. "I really did want to help."

"Then why did you accuse Elizabeth like that?" he demanded.

It took everything in her not to snarl at that name. "I thought she was making it all up! She was being evasive and shifty when I offered to look around, what was I supposed to think? I am sorry, alright? I shouldn't have attacked Elizabeth like that."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have."

"I just don't want you to be taken advantage of," she told him, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

"You don't want me to be taken advantage of. Or you don't want me to be _taken away from you_?" Jason questioned, his gaze intense and unblinking.

Sam felt like she was put on the spot. Her mouth parted, but no sound emerged. Her heart hammered in the base of her throat, and she felt seat break out along her forehead. She needed to salvage this and fast. "I'm sorry, Jason. It is just hard. Harder than I thought to be here with you, but not to be with you," she whined, intentionally causing her voice to hitch.

"Sam—" Jason pinched the bridge of his nose.

"And to see you with her of all people!" Sam sobbed, her eyes filled with tears in an instant. It was a talent that she had learned to cultivate since the age of four. "She uprooted our lives when we were having troubles, and she got pregnant with your child! The child I could never give you!"

His face fell, twisting in regret and sorrow for a life he didn't yet remember. The high of triumphant surged through her like lightning. She knew she had him right where she wanted him. "Seeing you with her now, wanting to be with her just causes all these emotions to surface and I try-I try to contain them," Sam whispered, softly. "But it just got the best of me tonight."

He released a heavy sigh. "Look, I am sorry this is difficult for you. This isn't the ideal situation for any of us involved, but I can't be the man that you used to love," he said. "Maybe us being friends wasn't a good idea, after all."

Sam went cold inside. "You don't mean that. Jason, I said I was sorry."

"Sorry doesn't change the fact that you just accused a woman of doing something horrific just to hold onto me. I can excuse it to a point because I know that you are going through hell, but that doesn't mean I can just ignore it and move forward," he responded, with a shake of his head. "I think it is best for the time being if we put a bit of distance between us. Until you can deal with this and grieve—"

"Grieve? I grieved for years after your death, and now—now you come back, and tell me that I have to let go off all that we had again," Sam croaked out.

"I am sorry, Sam," Jason whispered. "I just don't think I can be who you want me to be."

* * *

**END OF THE CHAPTER!**

Drew/Jason: There is a shift in Elizabeth's POV. She is actively thinking of Drew by his actual name, instead of continuing to refer to him as Jason in her thoughts. She does still call him Jason outloud, but in scenes that are from her POV, he will be written as "Drew". In scenes where Drew is with Sam, Carly, Sonny, etc. whom all still think he is Jason, he will still be referred to as "Jason" until the big reveal. I just wanted to clear that up if anyone was confused.

RRs are appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing from General Hospital.

I want to thank, noscruples, shermi, fundays, Liasonfan75, kcke2pen, Guest 1, starlight guardian, trini12180, ghfan51184, bjq, Guest 2, chicki'62, leasmom, for the reviews!

I want to thank, Bryantk82, Jmmartinez, ERCommandoTwilight, Twisted Musalih, trini12180, babeboo1968, RobJas, arcoiris0502, mif456, notenoughlove, killianariel18100, shermi, Wonderwomom, diamond2225leo, ghfan51184, lita4277, Bettyboop48748, Liasonfan75, 1bree, Meghie03, Shadow2485, brae76, jhplug, starlight guardian, IHEARTPADF00T, THEfictionfanatic, liasamccool388, Gyngerbear, SlytherinQueen020, Phasesofthemoom, phillymom65, Yin-Yang M, soagirlforver, Quinesia for the favs.

I want to thank, Bryantk82, DisneyPrincess1986, Jmmartinez227129, kcke2pen, lsmalltown8, ERCommandoTwilight, Keoje3530, aphass, leeleelaya5, trini12180, ReedBrenda75, babeboo1968, Starbright62, LiasonFan50, RobJas, mif456, notenoughlove, shermi, Liason4220, Kimora J, arcoiris0502, Wonderwomom, diamond2225leo, ghfan51184, Fancyxo, byland, Mirage Rules, Liasonfan75, 1bree, Shadow2485, brae76, rebates912, sashahailee, bjq, jhplug, starlight guardian, FallenWings8Tears, SPEEDIE22, mgrand11 and lisamccool388, Marie567, beachanita, Gyngerbear, SlytherinQueen020, Quinesia, gregsgirl3, phillymom65, Yin-Yang M, soagirlforver for the follows.

Guest Reviews:

Guest 1: It is good to be back! I am trying to write ahead on all my stories in order to set up more frequent updates, we will have to see how it works. Yes, this Drew hasn't been completely conned by Sam/Carly/Sonny just yet and has no reason to last out so greatly at Liz. He does believe Sam is acting out because she is in pain, so he doesn't see her ugly side just yet, but he isn't complete suckered. The Liz/Sam confrontation was so cathartic to write. I knew that everyone would loved it because it really is how the show should have had it go down, or at least, something close to it. I completely agree with you. Elizabeth has been a character who has ties to almost every major storyline, has proven she can handle dangerous situations, and had connection to Sonny and Jason's mob life that the writers neglect. The fact that the history of the show has become a pick and choose has crumbled the foundation of a great many character, but Liz has been the biggest victim in all that mess. Francis isn't just a name drop, he will show up at some point. :D Jason and Elizabeth needed a great many of epiphanies to stop deluding themselves into thinking that they can't be together. Yep, Jason doesn't have any blinders on for this Sonny. I have a love/hate with Lulu and Brooklyn, great actresses but poor writing back in the 2010-11 era. You'll have to read to find out. I am glad that you love Ross and Aimee, but it will be a bumpy road for them. It is a soap fanfic, after all. Can't all be smooth sailing. Ross and Amelia definitely have agendas, and we all know Amelia wants to take down Sam. Patrick is definitely overprotective of the people he considers family. Who would have thought the heartbreaker from 06 would be a loyal to a fault friend and family man? Thank you for the wonderful review.

Guest 2: I know! I am so sorry! I juggle a lot of stories and everything, but I hopefully will be able to put in place a good updating system soon. Aw, you are making me blush. I am so happy that you enjoy the story that much. Port Charles is definitely not the place it used to be. It has become a cesspool where cons like Sam and Sonny get away with being high and mighty while others get stomped on and have to like it. The exorcism comment had me laughing, but it is really the truth. Thank you for the review!

Chicki'62: Thank you so much for the review! I am working on it, I promise!

Leasmom: Drew is a bit of a fool but can't fault him too much. His brain was scrambled like an egg. Sam isn't the brightest bulb in the box.

**I have set up a Twitter account where I give updates and songs tied into my fanfiction, if you care to go follow it. It is ThroughtheMirr9 and I also like sharing random facts and stories. (I was going to wait to update, but decided to go ahead and update.)**

* * *

Chapter Eight

—**chapter theme song**—

—"_Blame", _**by Bastille**—

* * *

The penthouse door swung open so hard that it rattled on the hinges.

Sam McCall stormed into her old home with a blistering anger that pounded through her veins. She stood there, spine ramrod straight and her hands curled into knuckle white fists, before she grabbed the first thing she could—the lamp off the nearby desk and chucked it across the room with all the force that she could muster. It sailed through the air and slammed into the mantle. Pictures and knickknacks went flying, the sound of broken glass music to her ears. She didn't recall all the things that she broken, only that she intended on tearing the entire penthouse apart until this feeling would go away. It had been a long time since she had felt this type of rage, and how typical was it for the root of all of it to be Elizabeth Webber.

The woman was this ghost that haunted her life for nearly a decade. Always there on the outskirts, a vulture that would swoop in at the opportune moment and take advantage of Jason when he was vulnerable. Jason couldn't see the manipulation and lies, because he had her poised on this pedestal even after all these years. Elizabeth had put his heart through a ringer! Elizabeth had forced him to give up his son! And yet, he still defended her!

Sam had thought that this nightmare was all over years ago when Elizabeth ran with her tale between her legs and proved that she was unfit for the violence that came with Jason's lifestyle. Jason had come to his senses and married Sam, but their happy life was upturned by the likes of Franco and Helena. She had lost everything when Jason died. Her entire world unraveled, and she was left floating, and she bounced from one man to another seeking to replace that _rush_ she had when she was with Jason.

It was a dream come true to have Jason come home alive, but he wasn't whole. His lack of memories provided ample opportunity to create the life that she had always dreamed with Jason, and Elizabeth apparently had the same mindset. Underneath that all too holier than thou and princess purity act was a conniving snake that put Sam to shame.

Her fist slammed into the mirror, shattering it into hundreds of pieces and then a voice called out, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sam whirled around to see Carly standing there in the doorway.

"Wha—what the hell is this, Sam?" Carly demanded, furiously.

"Carly, just…just go away."

Carly stepped around the overturned chair, and broken glass crunched beneath her heels. Her eyes surveyed the damage in one long sweep, and then she turned a frigid glower onto Sam. "No, I am not going anywhere until you tell me why the hell you are trying to destroy Jason's penthouse," she said, folding her arms over her chest.

"It was my penthouse, too, Carly," Sam snapped. "In case, you have forgotten that I lived here with Jason for years."

"Everything you owned came from Jason. You have never paid a cent while you lived here off of Jason, not even when you bounced from job to job—quitting over the slightest thing because you really didn't want to work," Carly retorted, hauntingly. Her upper lip curled in a mild sneer, that familiar look of derision that made the blood boil in Sam's veins. "You didn't earn a damn thing. Not this apartment, not your clothes, not even that ring on your finger. Jason had to be convinced to propose to you. In fact, everything romantic he did for you was facilitated by someone else."

The black hatred in Sam's heart ran deep for Carly. The blond harpy had always been threatened by her from day one and had tried every scheme in the playbook to drive her out of town. It didn't matter that she had proved time and time again that she was no delicate flower, like Courtney or Elizabeth. It didn't matter how she proved that she fit into Jason's life perfect and understood it better than even Carly could comprehend. It just burnt Carly to the core that Jason chose Sam.

"I am Jason's wife," Sam said, angrily. "He loves me."

Carly smirked. "And that—that is only reason Sonny and I tolerate you. Jason sees something in you, something that is beyond my comprehension, and since you seemed determined to stay—"

"That's right, Carly. I am here to stay," Sam interrupted, her voice quivering. Her eyes spat venom and . "I am here to stay whether you like it or not. Jason might not have his memories of me, but the love that we shared doesn't just disappear. He'll remember me."

"If that is what you need to tell yourself to make yourself feel better about things, go ahead. But if you wanted to be with Jason so badly, you would have been with him instead playing this—this little _game _that you've been playing with him. And don't deny it," Carly sneered, pointing a finger right into Sam's face when the brunette opened her mouth. "You are a grown ass woman, and if you wanted to be with Jason, you would already be trying to make things work. Instead, you held onto Patrick and toyed with Jason in effort to—to what? Feel desirable? Feel unattainable? I honestly don't care because the only reason you allowed this farce to go on so long is because you want to punish Jason and force him to prove his love for you all over again."

Sam scowled. "You know nothing about me."

"I know everything I need to know. I should have remembered that you are only out to get what you can."

"Why are you being such a bitch right now?" Sam shouted. "All I have done since his identity to came out is try to give Jason time to choose if he wants his old life or to build something new. If you are really that worried about someone hurting Jason and playing him for a fool, then you need to turn your eyes on Elizabeth."

"I'll deal with Elizabeth when it comes to that, but right now, we are talking about you. You need to woman up before you screw up the best thing that every happen to you," Carly warned her, darkly.

Sam resisted the urge to punch the bitch in the face, just barely. She jutted her chin out stubbornly, averting her gaze for a moment and took a deep breath. "Why are you even hear, Carly? It certainly isn't because you wanted to talk to me."

Carly snorted, disdainfully. "I wanted to talk to Jason. He wasn't at his hotel room so I figured he might have come here."

"Oh, my God, are you—are you seriously keeping tabs on him? I don't know why I am so surprised." Sam forced a high pitch laugh out of her, and then she adopted a mocking thoughtful expression, resting her hands on her hips. "Let me hazard a guess, you are looking for Jason to bail you out of your latest disaster? You have made a mess of things, as you usually do, and know expect Jason to save you."

Carly snarled, grabbing ahold of Sam by the arm and pull her forward until they were face to face. "You will never understand what Jason and I have. Now, tell me where he is before I beat the snot of your smug face."

Sam wasn't intimidated by Carly. She was all bark and no real bite, always using Sonny or Jason to do her dirty work and keep her hands clean. The blond had lost all her street savvy skills in favor of allowing others to take on her culpability and save her from her own bad judgment. Sam had only herself to rely when she pulled her life out of ashes, having to build herself up anew. She had to learn new ways to get what she wanted, and how to outmaneuver everything in her way. She could do circles around Carly even on her worst days, and she relished the day when Jason wouldn't waste a minute on the blond or her offspring.

Sam bristled, grinding her teeth. "I don't know where Jason is. He isn't here, so I guess you are out of luck."

Carly pulled away with a noise of disgust. "You are absolutely useless."

"Look in the mirror, Carly."

Carly sent her a death glare before she marched on heel and slammed the penthouse door shut behind her. It cracked with the sound of thunder and there was a rattle before something fell off the mantle. The unexpected sound of shattering glass made her jump violently, and she whirled all wide eyes with a hand placed over her heart.

The room was in complete disarray, with not an inch of it left untouched by her carnage. Her dark eyes fluttered across all the broken glass, the knocked over table, the couch cushions in all four corners of the room. The rage had cooled into a hollow and cavernous feeling in her chest that threatened to consumer her from the inside out. She knelt to the floor to start to pick up the mess when she felt her heart drop right out of her chest, and genuine tears sprang to her eyes immediately.

With quaking hands, Sam picked up the two figurines.

The dragon was intact and whole.

The phoenix was shattered.

* * *

Dante had just exited the locker room when Delores stopped him in his tracks. Her expression was polite but strained, and her dark eyes were unreadable when staring up at him. It made his chest clench up tight when she looked at him like that. "What's the matter?" he asked concerned.

"Your father," Delores stated, pulling on her gloves. "He showed up a few minutes ago. He is hovering around your desk. It is making everyone else nervous."

The cords of his throat tightened while he choked down a frustrated growl, and he placed a hand on Delores's shoulder, promising, "I'll deal with him."

"Are you sure you don't want back up?" Delores asked, eyebrow raised.

"I know how to handle my father but thank you."

Delores offered him a small, fleeting smile and gave him a small nod before she walked out the double doors that led to the parking garage. Dante watched her leave and felt strangely as if he had just forgotten to say something important. He scratched the back of his neck, thinking hard for a moment before he allowed it to fall away. Besides, he had to run his dad out of the police department before anyone got any bright ideas to start a fight or put a pair of cuffs on him. He marched down the long hallways and ignored the stares that were aimed his way. His father's reputation was a shadow that he had to fight every day here.

It didn't help that his father tried to visit, and that these visits were hardly innocuous. He stepped into the main processing area, and saw his father standing idle by the desk. His dark eyes roamed over paperwork that was left open, and Dante stepped forward hastily. He slid the file closed without much fanfare, not wanting to draw more attention than was necessary. The last thing he needed was to end up in hot water by being accused of leaving stuff out for his dad's viewing pleasure.

"That's, uh, restricted information," Dante told him, evenly.

Sonny held up his hands in surrender. "It was just—it was sitting out in the open. I thought it was going to fall over. It was right there."

Dante huffed, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Look, dad, I'm under scrutiny because I'm your son. So next time just let it fall."

"Okay. Okay."

He stared at his father, unblinkingly, for a hot minute before he released a heavy sigh. "What are you even doing here? No, scratch that," Dante said, in a mildly annoyed tone. "I am assuming that you found out that Michael was here."

"One of Michael's guards informed me that he was brought here to the station. I know that he has been released, but given his record and everything, I thought I would come talk to you. See if y—you could tell me what exactly was going on," Sonny replied, .

"If Michael hasn't said anything, I don't think it is my place to be sprouting about his business," Dante commented, roughly. "Besides, you can't keep doing this. Coming to me at my place of work when you do what you do—"

"If they are giving you any trouble, I can get you a job at a security firm. Completely legal and—"

"I don't need another job. I like my job," Dante interjected, overriding his father's voice. He didn't need his father offering him jobs, especially when it would come with strings attached. "I just don't need you coming around and making my job any harder than it already is."

"Alright, fine. I understand how my presence could…could be upsetting to your bosses and your co-workers. I will do my best to avoid coming down here if I can, but I'm not asking for a lot here, Dante," Sonny responded, with a heavy frown. "I am not asking for specifics. I just want to know how bad this looks for Michael."

Dante knew that he shouldn't give him. That his father would take a mile if given an inch, but the worry for Michael was genuine and not misplaced. His younger brother had been through a lot, and he knew there would be people all too eager to jump on the chance to use him against Sonny.

"Michael is a suspect, but he has cooperated. So long as no evidence comes back with any connection to him, then he should be cleared. It was just a matter of freaky circumstances that he was connected to what is going on, but that is all that I can say," Dante stated, wearily.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Will you let me walk you out?" Dante asked.

Sonny nodded. "I wouldn't mind that."

The father and son walked out the police department. They walked side by side, strikingly similar in many ways, but there was visible tension that swirled in the air around them. A tension that had been there since Dante had met his father only four short years ago, and it made the young police officer wonder just how much blood meant to Sonny. The mobster always played the family man, but he wondered if his father ever suspected that Dante was working to bring him down, if that all flew out the window and it was open season on his own child. It was thoughts like these that made Dante keep a wall up around his father.

Dante wasn't sure if trusting Sonny was worth it.

* * *

The tunnels beneath Cassidine Island seemed fathomless.

The dark, depressing gloom seeped into every rock and stone. The tragic memories left an invisible scar here, and while Jason did not believe in ghosts, he couldn't help but to feel a sudden chill rush down his spine the longer he was down here. He skulked through the dark passageways, quiet as he could be searching for any sign of Cesar Faison. This would be the ideal place for him to seek refuge and hide, so he could either scheme to take advantage of the chaos or plan to go off the grid until he found new patronage from another psychopath. That could be allowed to happen, no matter which way the pendulum fell.

His feet were soundless across the damp soil, and the beam of his flashlight bounced off the rock walls. He had found old caches of moonshine and other valuable hidden from the Prohibition Era, but nothing recent. A shine from up ahead made him grow still. It was the unmistakable glint of metal, and he ventured closer carefully. There had been many traps all throughout the tunnels that he had to disarm and dismantle to make it this far.

It was a broken watch set atop of disturbed soil. It was a shallow grave and the body had been half dug up by wild animals judging by the bite marks and mauled flesh. He would say that the man had been dead for more than two week and with a gloved hand he tentatively flipped the body over.

"Luke," Jason breathed out in shock.

He had no love for the drunkard. He might not have been the one to hit Jake that night on the road and put into motion his son's kidnapping by Helena, but he was absolute scum. He wasted the love of those closet to him and chased his demons down bottle after bottle. He chose to be a coward, by never confronting the ugly parts of his life and never committed to be a better man. He tried to be a better man, but he would always allow himself to spiral down into the dark again.

That didn't mean that Jason ever wanted to find Luke like this.

_Bullet wounds to the chest, _Jason frowned deeply. _He was killed, but given how recent, it couldn't have been Helena or Nikolas. It could have been Faison, but bullets don't tend to be his style. He likes to play with his victims. _

He made a marker on his GPS device so he could send someone to recover the body before he rose to his feet and ventured deeper into the cavern. The tunnel seemed endless, narrow, and twisting, until it became a yawning chasm. The old wooden staircase that descended into the depths below had fallen apart ages ago, and there was no safe way to climb down. He crept to the cliff edge and peered downward, only to sharply retreat and duck down to his knees.

In the crevasse below, a massive setup had been built with metal catwalks and stairs laid over the uneven earth to make it easier to the traverse. Industrial spotlights flared on after a metallic clank, illuminating the group of heavily armored mean that walked around the secret hideaway. It was a laboratory, if Jason were to hazard a guess, with all the computers, machines, and equipment.

He didn't know if it was the one indicated in Robert's report, but the intel had been wrong about one thing. This place was far from abandoned. Jason knelt out of sight of those that would dare to look upward, with his heart pounding in his skull. There were far too many variables to try at a direct confrontation, so his questions would go unanswered for now. He would have to retreat in order to avoid possible discovery.

"The area appears to be secured," the commander barked out, a Gaelic lit to his voice. He was a grizzly looking man with a scarred face, and an eyepatch over his missing left eye. His blondish red hair was streaked with grey. The only evidence of his rank was how quickly the others jumped to heed his command. "Orders are to search and recover all that can be salvage, and then destroy the rest."

The rest of the militia dispersed to different corners of the room, efficient and swift in dismantle and picking apart the laboratory. Jason could feel the pinch of his gut, and he prayed that any leads weren't demolished by this mysterious group. His peered over the edge, eyes scanning the group, but he didn't see Faison amongst their numbers. That didn't mean the psychopath wasn't involved, but there were other suspects such as Nikolas or Valentin that could be at the epicenter.

The group parted like the Red Sea when a man strode forth. He was no dressed in the kevlar armor and had no weapons, only a simple dark coat that billowed behind him when he walked briskly down the flight of stairs to the laboratory. The way the mercenaries turned to look at him with deference indicated that he held an amount of power and sway with these men and women.

"Commander O'Brien, I hear that your search has been fruitful?" the man asked, breezily.

"Ross!" the commander hooted, with a jovial grin on his face. "Come down to the underbelly to have a glimpse at the freakshow that the Cassidines are?"

Ross gave him a droll smile. "I am well aware what kind of freakshow the Cassidines are."

Jason felt his brow lift upward.

"Have you found any indication of Manticore?" inquired Ross.

"Not yet. If it is here, then we will find it."

Ross hummed underneath his breath and he glanced around the cavern, from top to bottom, and then his entire body jerked. His eyes pinned on the cliff above, his spine rigid with suspicion and his mouth and angry slash.

Jason cursed silently.

"Is something wrong, boss?" O'Brien asked.

Ross was silent for a long moment. "No…nothing. Just thought I saw a shadow."

Relief pooled in Jason's gut, and he backed away quietly. He rushed down the tunnel as soon as he knew it was safe to make more than a whisper of a noise and knew that he had to inform Anna and Robert of this new development as soon as possible.

There were new players in this game.

* * *

_Fear pounded through her blood. The taste of acid burned up her throat while she crouched to floor with her eyes cast towards the open door. Her face pulsed with pain, swelling, and bruised. Tears stains on her cheeks and rivulets of blood leaked out of the corners of her mouth, she looked a battered mess with tangled hair and rustled clothing. She pressed fingertips against the grains in the wood while her breath was caught tight in her lungs. The shadows had grown long and dark in the silent house, and the night was full of monsters. _

_For a long time, she was frozen there with a knot in her chest. The indecision caused her limbs to be unresponsive and sluggish, and her heart fluttered wildly against her ribcage. A spark—a need born out of desperation caused her to crawl forward on her hands and knees. She inched to the door—each step towards freedom caused hope to surge higher and higher in her chest. _

_The hope was a cruel illusion. The end of this dream was predetermined. _

_The floorboards creaked behind her—the footsteps getting closer, and all the hair on her arms to stand on end while dread permeated every pore of her body. It was a nightmare that happened in slow motion, with no way to stop the inevitable. She didn't even reach the door before a hand twisted in her hair. A scream burst out of her when she was hauled off the floor by her hair. The blistering pain of her scalp, the air scrapped out of her lungs, and thrashing against her attacker—_

Aimee lurched up off the hospital bed with a gasp. Her hand was pressed over her pounding heart, and she jerked away when she felt a touch on her shoulder. The darkness of the room had the person painted in shadows, and she felt the coldness of fear spear through her chest when the lamp on the nightstand was turned on. There was a split second where she was caught in the hazy space between awake and asleep, dream and reality before her vision cleared and she saw Sabrina Santiago there by her bedside.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Sabrina rambled, apologetically. "I just got off my shift and wanted to drop off some magazines and crossword puzzles to your room so you could pass the time until your release tomorrow, and I saw you were having a nightmare—"

Aimee held up her hands to stop the rabid fire of words because her throbbing skull could not keep up with the babble. "It's—it's okay," she croaked out. A glance at the green numbers on the bedside clock told it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. "You just got off of work?"

Sabrina placed the magazines on her nightstand, and then claimed the chair right by the bed. "Doctor Obretcht's handy work. She is just best friends with that awful Missus Sneed—I don't know why Monica hired that woman who is going around changing schedules and whatnot all for supposed efficiency…" She bit her lower lip, blushing when she realized she had started to launch into another babble fest. "Well, Obretcht has never liked me one bit. I was the one that threw the wrench into Britt's plans to entrap Patrick, after all. As far as she is concerned, I am literally enemy number one."

Aimee snorted lightly. "Not sure if you are the first on her list, but I am sure you made it into the top ten."

"I feel so accomplished," Sabrina snarked. Her smile dropped into a little frown of concern. "How are you feeling? Kelly told me what happened—"

"Oh, God," Aimee bemoaned. "Not Kelly. Anyone, but Kelly. You know how she likes to embellish and dramatize every little thing."

"So…you didn't slip on ice trying to outrun a taken man who you had accidently hit on?" Sabrina asked, wryly.

"That part is…_true,_" Aimee said, reluctantly.

"And that he whisked you off the hospital like a damsel—"

"I am not a damsel!"

Sabrina giggled, and it wasn't long before the infectious laughter melted away the mock ire on Aimee's face. "Damsel or not, I am happy that you are alright. Head wounds can be tricky."

"All my scans can back pretty good, so I should make a full recovery. What about you? How are you doing? I haven't heard much since the wedding…" Aimee hadn't been able to go to the wedding because she had been swamped with business meeting about a product that she was trying to get patent for, and that required a trip to upstate New York that had been grueling to say the very least.

"You mean my _not _wedding?" Sabrina groaned, rolling her neck, and turning her eyes skyward with a miserable expression. "I don't think I have been able to look at Michael in the face since."

Aimee tilted her head to the side with a curious, but caution look in her eyes. "Feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but why did you run away from the wedding? I thought you were deeply in love with Michael."

"I do love Michael! I do! It was just…" Sabrina fell into a thoughtful silent, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. "I know that Michael loves me. I know that he does, but I haven't been able to trust his love completely. It might have been all the gaslighting and interference from Carlos that got in my head, but I just felt cold and panicky. I just felt like as soon as I walked down that aisle my world was going to be blown apart again and I—"

"Don't you owe it to yourself to be happy?" interjected Aimee.

"I guess, but—"

"But nothing. There is nothing in this world that comes easy or free, but there are special people that will share the burden of whatever comes your way if you let them," Aimee interrupted her, with a pointed look. "If you really love Michael that much, then you should be with him. Don't let anything that needs to be said go left unsaid. Don't let Carlos be able to create misunderstanding any further and take a chance on yourself."

"The last time I took a chance on myself, I ended up having my wedding interrupted by a long-lost wife," Sabrina responded, dryly. "Not that I am mad Robin is alive or hold any resentment towards Patrick, but that it was—it was a devastating blow to my life. I had built up all these hopes and dreams, and they came crashing down on that day. And then I lost my baby—I just wasn't at my best. I don't want that to happen again."

"Okay. Okay." Aimee sat up in her hospital bed and reached over to clasp Sabrina's hands in-between hers. Her earnest gaze was steady on Sabrina's sad and fearful face. "Alright, listen to me? What happened with your relationship with Patrick was freak circumstance. No one could have predicted that Robin was kidnapped and didn't die in the lab explosion. No one can blame you for being devastated over that loss, and it is a true measure of your character that you aren't bitter over it. It would be all to easy to be resentful at Robin and Patrick, but you weren't. You loved Emma and Patrick enough to be happy for them even if they weren't with you, even if it hurt you. That takes an amazing heart to be able to love like that.

"You are strong, Sabrina Santiago. It doesn't matter if you fell low after the break-up and the loss of your child. Everyone has a point where they fall, but the important thing? You got back up afterwards. You rebuilt your life and are better for it," Aimee insisted, sincerely. "Maybe it won't work out with Michael, but you won't know if you don't try. A relationship that is meant to last isn't built in a day, and it takes trial and error to get the right pieces. If your heart is telling that Michael can help you find those pieces and build that life, then you owe it to yourself to try. You've been through so much heartache that you deserve a bit of happiness."

Sabrina blinked back tears. "What if he doesn't want me?"

"Firstly, he'd be an idiot. You are a catch," Aimee reassured her, with a lopsided smile. "Secondly, that is the risk with love. You give it without knowing if it will be returned or not, but that is what makes it so precious."

Sabrina sniffled, wiping away the tears with the edge of her sleeve. "When did you get so wise?"

"Wise isn't the word I would use, but…" Aimee sat back gingerly against the bed, trying not to move too quickly. "But I watch people. I studied them, how they move or how they speak, all the micro-expression and subtle undertones…"

A somberness overcame Sabrina, and she peered thoughtfully at Aimee. She fidgeted in her chair, weighting her thoughts before she spoke. "You grew up with a lot of pain, didn't you?" she asked, gently. "That's how you learn how to watch people like that."

Aimee's head jerked toward Sabrina in surprise.

Sabrina let out a low chuckle. "Did you know that I am immigrant? I got my citizenship shortly after high school, but the first five years of my life I lived in a small town in Puerto Rico. It was beautiful place, filled with history and culture, but the highway was built so business started to die. People started getting desperate, and where there are desperate people, there are people who took advantage. I was young, but I remember always having to be careful. I had to watch who I interacted with, or the people on the street, always be on alert even at just five years old. I still from time to time find myself doing that here, but you have that same look about you."

Aimee felt a stirring in her chest, sharp and unyielding. A great many traumas, unspoken and packed tightly in her psyche, poised on the edge of her tongue, and begged her to open up to share the burden of her soul. She wrestled with the emotions that made her vulnerable and didn't know what to do with them. She had never been given a safe place to speak about them, or about what happened to her. She knew she had friends now, but that didn't mean that she wanted to talk about her past.

"You—you don't have to talk about it," Sabrina told her, kindly. "I just wanted to let you know that I understand."

"Thank you," Aimee said, softly.

Sabrina smiled. "Well, I better get home and get some sleep. Are you going to be alright? Do you need anything?"

Aimee shook her head. "I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about me."

"I am your friend. Of course, I worry," Sabrina laughed.

Sabrina departed the room with a soft murmur of goodbye. She had her coat and purse slung over her arm, while she texted on her cellphone to let Felix know that she was on her way to the apartment that they shared soon. A glance upward at the sound of footsteps brought her to a halt when she saw Carly clear on the other side of Nurses Station. The pure venom that ignited on the older woman's face was enough to make her insides squirm unpleasantly. She pocketed her cellphone and abandoned the trip for the elevator and headed towards the stairwell. Yellow caution tape was taped to the door, but she ignored it. The stairwell was condemned for rain damage and where the roof had collapsed so no one was allowed in there until the construction crew came around, but Sabrina opted to duck into the stairwell just long enough to avoid a nasty confrontation. She had no intention of going down them.

It the end it was pointless because as soon as she stepped through the door to the staircase, Carly was there behind her. Sabrina turned to face her, warily. "Look, Carly—"

"You don't get to speak. I am the one who is going to do the talking here," Carly stated, in a cold yet even tone of voice. "Your poor little girl in the need of a friend act might have fooled Michael for a while, might have gotten him to let his guard down and start a mockery of a relationship with you, but I know what kind of person you are."

"You don't know anything about me," Sabrina said, defensively. "You didn't even try to get to know me when Michael and I were together."

"Oh, please. You are hardly unique," Carly responded. "See Michael's life was always going to be defined by who his father was. Sonny adopting Michael was the best and worst thing to ever happen to him, and the worst is the violence of the lifestyle. Even though Michael isn't in that life, he is attached to it and everyone around him by association. You were never going to be able to handle that."

"What are you even doing here, Carly?" Sabrina said, wearily.

"Morgan broke his hand. He is in the ER," Carly stated, with an eyebrow arched. "This is a hospital, is it not?"

"You are long away from the ER. I can only imagine that you got bored and decided to pass the time by picking a fight. Do you really think that going around yelling and fighting with people serves any actual purpose?" Sabrina asked.

Carly glared. "I do what I have to do to protect my kids. Something you wouldn't understand a single thing about. You couldn't even protect—"

Sabrina saw red. "You will not use my child against me. I don't care what other venom you spat, but you will _not_ use my child."

Carly narrowed her eyes dangerously, and her nostrils flared wide. "At least, you had the decency to walk away before you ruined my son's life."

Sabrina could barely believe a person could be so hateful. "The only one who is going to ruin Michael's life is you, Carly. You are overbeating and manipulative, using your children as pawns or scapegoats. The second Michael and I became a couple, you were there hovering and monitoring every aspect of our lives. You were just as responsible as Carlos was for the destruction of my relationship with Michael."

"Oh, no, you don't get to play the victim here," Carly snarled, angrily. "You made the choice to runaway at the wedding. Not Carlos and not me. You did that and you have no one to blame, but yourself. You broke Michael's heart."

"You know nothing about Michael's heart," Sabrina countered. Her eyes were daggers, piercing and hard, straight at Carly's face. "You don't know anything about your children. You are so busy chasing around Jason and Sonny to see straight. You whole love is wrapped around keeping them exactly where you want them, so you are free to do as you please, and maybe occasionally you'll remember that you have kids—"

Carly smacked Sabrina across the face.

Sabrina's head snapped to the side, and she reached up to touch her stinging cheek. A scoff trembled up the length of her throat, and she squared her shoulders to show the blond that she wasn't about to cower to the likes of her. "I don't care what you say," Sabrina told her. "Whatever is between Michael and I, it has nothing to do with you."

Sabrina made her way to descend the stairs when the harpy grasped her by the arm and dug her claws in deeply.

"You have nothing with Michael—"

"That is for him to decide!" Sabrina snapped, trying to pull free from Carly's ironclad grip. The tug of war had her rocking precariously back and forth on the stairs with her sweaty palm clasped around the railing. "Let me go!"

"Not until you—"

Sabrina wretched herself free, but Carly shoved her in retaliation. The nurse didn't have time to even feel her heart drop in fear before she was falling—spiraling, her body thumped against the stairs and down—down—down until her body stopped against the cold concrete. Red leaked into her vision—her entire world painted in blood and growing shadows. Her breath rattled through her chest, weak and shallow. She could see Carly there at the top of the staircase, but the blond just stood there—just _stood _there, watching, and waiting, until her entire world went black.

Carly breathed heavily. A blend of horror and satisfaction surged through while she watched Sabrina's eyes closed. She felt shaky and sweaty, and she swallowed the knot in her throat. "I had to do it. I had to do it. She was going to ruin Michael's life," she whispered, nodding to herself. She hurried out of the stairwell, and the door slammed behind her.

Silence reigned in the dark corridor where Sabrina laid injured and dying.

And then footsteps ascended, quiet and measured from the lower stairwell, until Franco stood there beside the broken and bleeding nurse. He looked down at her with an eyebrow arched upward, and then lifted his gaze to the camera up in the corner above. The red light blinked tauntingly, and his lips pulled into a cat-like smile.

* * *

**End of Chapter**

**Author's Note: The role of Michael is played by Jake Allen Abel. (No offense to the young actor that plays Michael now, but the writers have made him toothless. He was interesting when he took custody of Avery, but then they made him forgive Carly and Sonny so quickly. All his romances were half-heartedly written, so I haven't been able to root for his character. I made a recast for my fanfic with an actor that I could see while writing scenes.) The role of Commander O'Brien is played by Gideon Emery.**

**RRs are appreciated.**


End file.
